


Fame & Misfortune

by pregernate



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: A bit of steam?, Drama, Fame, Heartbreak, Little confessions, M/M, Slow Burn, Suspense, VERY ANGSTY !!!, sensitive topics here and there, soft makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pregernate/pseuds/pregernate
Summary: Magnus Bane is one of the most popular celebrities in all of New York, being recognized even in boardering countries. He is quite the rich man, living in luxury and contentment.He is a famous singer, songwriter, and actor.He's used to being interviewed and have paparazzi in his face twenty-four seven, but when he is asked by a shy photographer and journalist for an interview, his world begins to whirl.





	1. epilogue

Magnus fixes the sunglasses covering his eyes, allowing the accessory to press against his nasal bridge softly. The security guards on either side of him wear the same thing on their faces, silk black suits and dress shirts underneath pairing up with _their_ complexions and accessories, just like every typical guard keeping watch of the celebrity, the _gem_.

The paparazzi group surrounds him with every step he and his guards take, their blinding camera lights flashing in his eyes, brighter than the sun which his glasses were meant to block off. He flinches every time he is greeted with a, _"look over here!"_ or _"say cheese!"_  and the _snap_ of a camera going off. It's annoying, to say the least, but you get used to it after some time.

One paparazzi member manages to get a close shot, yelling over the other voices mixing in with the background, "Smile!"

Magnus doesn't have time to react before he is once more blinded by the camera's sudden flash.


	2. chapter 01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get a peak in magnus's life yo  
> also the movie i mentioned is completely made up and off the top of my head so dont open a new google tab and type faster than the speed of light to find out if it is real  
> i !! didnt !! have !! time !! to !! check !! for !! typos !! so !! please !! try !! to !! ignore !! them !!  
> thanks !!

" _Five more minutes_ . . . " Magnus groans groggily at the alarm clock on his bedside table, beeping in all of its glory. This is _not_ what he wants right now. It's a Wednesday morning, sunlight seeping through the window behind him. Bright yellow covers the back of his smooth bronze skin, shining his body beautifully. The beyond tired male makes multiple attempts to ignore the ear-pounding sound without moving, only turning his head to stuff his face into his soft pillows. Failing, Magnus whines childishly before smacking the alarm button off. "Jesus." He breathes, the word seething through his teeth. He pushes himself up from his previous position with a grunt tight in his throat, only being heard by his own ears.

He arches his back to stretch, rubbing his sleepy eyes at the same time. His bare chest now gets to have the sunlight to itself, basking in the shine. Magnus's golden brown eyes turn to the window, eyes squinting. It's a beautiful day out, he notes, but why must such beauty reveal itself on the worst day possible? 

Magnus hates Wednesdays with a burning passion, as you would've guessed by now. Why?

Because there is so much to do on every one of those specific days. And each time it's always a different schedule. He even wrote repeatedly in the Wednesday boxes on every week,  _"worst day ever"_ on his calendar for the whole month of February. 

There's a knock on his door, to which the actor pays no mind to until the voice of the person on the other side starts calling his last name and banging their fist harder on the wood. " _Mr. Bane, Mr. Bane . . ._ " The man in the bed mocks under his breath before calling back, "Come in!"

No, Magnus isn't as snarky as he presents himself as of now. Actually, he's a pretty nice man. That is if you don't get on his nerves. He really isn't the person to lose his temper easily, though, so it would be hard to pluck his last bit of tolerance, but if you do manage to do so, you better cover your ears and run for your life because you will have a hell of a lecture, ongoing, rough, and deafening like a waterfall rushing down the precipice.

A young lady opens the door with a gentle push, an impatient expression shining on her features ever so discreetly. "Mr. Bane," She starts, but is stopped when Magnus puts up a ringless finger. "Sierra, dear," his voice is instantly dropped to be soft, "I've lost track of how many times I've told you to just call me Magnus." He didn't like to be called any names that would make him come off as a _superior_. It made him feel off with society, and he's paranoid others will think he's just _"another one of those spoiled brats that got famous for lip syncing,"_ or some other dumb stuff. Like Kim Kardashian and her sex tape—

"Right." The girl — Sierra — nods, reply slow. It's as if she's hesitant to call the other by his first name. She's worked for other celebrities before, and she told him when she was just settling into his line of tending to that she wasn't allowed to call them by _their_ first names. It was absurd in Magnus's opinion. Those other celebrities already get enough people falling to their knees for them, they don't need any more satisfaction from their helpers — as Magnus put it — as they do stans.

"Well, _Magnus_ ," Her cheeks burn a soft pink, feeling awkward to address the man before her by his name, "Mr. Fell—"

"Ragnor." Magnus corrects. His friends don't mind being called by their first names either, and they aren't even as well known as him. Not to throw shade or anything. Ragnor is a closed-off man, not having an occupation from Magnus's guess. He would always ask if he had a job, but the other would just reply with a, _"A small thingy."_ His other close friend, Catarina Loss, is a nurse. Cool, a solid answer.

Sierra scrapes her teeth on her tongue, nodding once more. "Uh, Ragnor called in, wanting to know what you had to do for today."

 _Oh, Ragnor_. He knows all the chaos Magnus goes through. He even laughed at him when they were at the bar after Magnus finished up a hard day. He looked _awful_ that night. And of course, it was on a Wednesday.

"Oh, goodness gracious, I don't even know." Magnus falls back, head hitting the pillows once again. He runs his hands down his face. "I just want this day to be over already." He looks back to Sierra. "What if I call in sick again?"

"To all those interviews? Tch, it'll definitely end the day quickly I'll tell you that." 

Magnus laughs at the joke, shaking his head. He sits back up and ruffles with his hair. "Is that all you needed to tell me?" He asks when the giggling shared between the two ended. "Oh, yeah—" The female remembers, "breakfast is ready."

"It'll be cold by the time I get down there." Magnus rolls his eyes.

"It probably already is."

They exchange laughter one more time before she closes the door to let him get prepared for the long day ahead of him.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Out of the shower with heavy droplets of water falling from his hair, onto his chest and rolling down his back, Magnus steps out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His bare feet drag against the carpeted floor of his bedroom as he makes his way over to his walk-in closet, opening the door and swaying his hips as he got in.

His eyes skim through all his clothes hung up on their racks, unceremoniously pushing handfuls of hangers at a time to find one that he hasn't worn so much that they're just something people will shrug off and say, _"oh, it's his usual outfit."_ Every day, he wanted to dazzle people, most of the time succeeding.

His eyes are dead of excitement until they catch a certain jacket. He grins, thinking of something to pair it with. Once his "pairing puzzle" gets put together, his toothy smile only widens as he rushes to change into the attire in mind.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Magnus walks elegantly down his swirling steps, noticing how bright his home is. It's awe-inspiring, to say the least. How all the polishes shine in the sun's glow; the deep brown floors, the tables, even the railing connecting to the stairs is reflecting the light. He gets to the first floor with a little thud from his boots, continuing to stride his way to the kitchen, the heels of his footwear clicking against the floorboards in a pleasing pattern.

Once he is at his destination, he peeks through the entrance and knocks on the wall to get the attention of Sierra, who is washing the dishes from last night's dinner. She looks over her shoulder and smiles softly in greeting before turning back to continue rubbing the soapy sponge against a plate in her other hand. "Oh— I can do that for you." Magnus offers instinctively, jogging over and tapping his hip on hers, moving her over so he can continue the chore. The female's lips part an inch, but nothing blurts from her mouth. She just watches in awe at Magnus's generosity. "Bane, you don't—"

"I want to." The man cuts her off with a side smile. "And again, my name's Magnus."

She swallows, but her throat is still dry. "Oh, uh, well— What am I supposed to do, then?"

"Rest, maybe?" Magnus suggests, tilting his head to the side in thought. "You do so much for me, Madam Reeves. I owe you."

Sierra's jaw only drops further. "M-Magnus, you're the one doing so much!" She stammers. "You have all this work bullshit all the time and yet you tend to yourself?"

"Profanity, watch it." He warns. "But yes, I do." He scrubs at the next dish in the sink before his eyes look back up, out the window in front of him. "That reminds me, I forgot to give you your payment yesterday. I'll add a dollar extra. I am so impressed by how well you keep the house in shape. My other helpers didn't do their deeds as good as you." He praises with a hum.

"I— Magnus, I just swept the floors and dusted the vases . . . " Her voice softens, but her shock is still internally overwhelming her.

"And it was marvelous." The celebrity opens the dishwasher on his other side and places the finished dishes in their slots, closing the washer back up and drying his hands off with the rag hanging on its handle.

Magnus is not snarky and spoiled. He is the _complete_ opposite. He even earned the label _"Goody-two-shoes"_ from his mutuals. With every time he stuck his tongue out at them, inside he didn't mind. He liked seeing people smile. It keeps him going.

His glance goes off to Sierra a final time before he turns around and sits at the dining table, at the seat where his food is laid out untouched and put into corners of the plate decoratively. He thinks of why he even _has_ a helper. He lives off pretty well by himself, and he doesn't let Sierra do more than dust off some objects and pay her hundreds of dollars cash, then just sending her home to tend for her family, too. But without her his house would be dusty and unorganized, he guesses.

He picks up his fork and stabs the scrambled eggs on the right side of the dish, cutting it up in a bite-sized bit before stuffing it into his mouth. A moan of genuine liking vibrates in his throat. Even though it's cold, the flavor is still there dashed with effort Sierra always put in to let him start his day off nicely. She is Magnus's only helper, as you would've already noticed. Most other celebrities had more than one, but Sierra was all he needed for the house. They've even become good friends after her first month on the job. "This is delicious!" He compliments the cooking, the mushy sustenance pushed into his right cheek so he could be heard clearly.

"I'm glad." Sierra beams, shuffling out of the kitchen to start dusting the floors.

When Magnus swallows, he calls out, "Don't push yourself too much!"

From a distance, the shorter female snorts, retorting loudly, "I don't push myself _enough!_ "

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Magnus is off on his way to work, his first station being the movie studio, where he's starring the main character Devin in _The Birds Do What They Will_. He rides in a simple blue Toyota car instead of a limo all the way there. Again, Magnus doesn't want that kind of attention on the streets. He doesn't want to just sit and stare out the window with a blank face and all of a sudden be greeted with the creepiest bulging eyes and a mouth formed in an 'O' shape as strangers gasp. It's funny, though, he has to admit. But being covered for as long as he can in the morning is the only relaxation he'll have this whole day. His bodyguards aren't with him this time; he's driven himself. Which leaves him vulnerable to paparazzi, but oh well.

Once he parks in front of the studio, he takes his keys from the ignition and stuffs it into his satchel, opening the flab to drop it in. He unbuckles himself from his seat and opens the door, stepping out and slamming the said door shut behind him. He holds his bag tight to his side as he speed-walks over to the double doors of the studio, slipping through them and continuing his rushed pace until he is in the green-screen room of the film he's in. He shakes the bag off into the chair with his name printed on it, pulling out his phone to check if he had any notifications before placing it back down.

His head is up to look around for anyone else besides the directors, seeing his friend Clary Fairchild feet away. "Biscuit!" He shouts, arms widening as he sprints over to her.

"Magnus!" The same smile rests on her lips, her arms opening too, readying herself for the impact of Magnus's body crashing into hers and embracing her tightly.

Soon enough, the collision comes, and both make a little peep before their arms wrap around each other's bodies. They rock from side to side — from Magnus's doing — until they eventually pull back, their grins fading little by little. Clary is also playing a role in the movie, being the best friend of Devin's. Ironic enough. Her character's name is Payton, and though it is predominantly a masculine name, it suits well for females, too. "So," Magnus starts, "what are we waiting for?"

"The others to set up the props and all." She answers, amber eyes now focused on the script held in her hand. The male failed to notice the packet beforehand, but now that he does, he tilts his head down the same as Clary and tries his best to read his own lines upside down. Giving up less than a minute later to simply read, _"love"_ instead _"oval,"_  he steps back and tilts his head up, regretting his decision immediately and hissing as the bright ceiling lights burn his eyes. His legs bend, rubbing his eyes harshly to clear his vision. "God— . . ." He stops himself from continuing that word, sucking his lips into his mouth to lick them and calm himself for his own stupid, subconscious action.

He can see Clary's dimples show on her cheeks when he looks back over to make sure he hasn't gone completely blind, indicating that she's smiling. Probably at him and what he just did. He bites back a _tsk_ , removing his hands from his face.

"Okay!" He hears one of the directors shout from their seat a yard or so away. "Time to get ready!"

Magnus and Clary give each other a final glance before they part to go over to their own trailers to get ready and start looking like their characters. Magnus meets the make-up ladies when he opens the door to his trailer, stepping inside and calling out a big, "Hello!" They respond with just as much enthusiasm, warm smiles spreading their lips. Magnus takes a seat and stares at himself in the mirror, noticing the bags under his eyes. Or is that just the eyeliner? He shakes the thought off and tries to play it off like it isn't there. One of the women hold up a wet rag and begin having the makeup he applied himself wiped from his face. He didn't like it whenever it happened, but for the sake of getting this special role in this special movie, it's worth it.

When the deed is done, Magnus is staring into his own orbs intently, eyeing his face, taking every inch, every imperfection. And those _bags_. He can't blame it on his makeup now; he's bare. He swallows down hard on his saliva, ready to get a concerned gasp out of one of the ladies. Or both. They don't comment anything, but from the look on their faces in the mirror, it already explains how they feel about him and self-care. But it doesn't matter anyway, because the foundation is just smeared onto his face, matching his skin tone to hide those ugly black spaces.

When he looks pretty once more, one of the ladies pull out an outfit from his wardrobe for him to wear. Devin, of course, is a teenager, so the jeans are ripped and faded, having a blue vest and red long-sleeved shirt. It's in the style of the early 2000s, so Magnus doesn't complain about the fashion sense. He stands, taking hold of the clothing pairing. He nods to both women, silently telling them to leave for a moment so he can change into his character.

Let me tell you about the character Magnus plays. Devin is a male in questioning of his sexual orientation, having a crush on a girl, yet at the same time having the feelings for a guy. There is no homosexuality experimentation throughout the movie, which is unfortunate, but in the end, he confesses his feelings to the dude, deciding that he'll take a step forward and try to connect with himself, even though it will be off-screen and in someone else's imagination.

He finishes changing and steps out the trailer, moonwalking and doing Michael Jackson's signature " _Hee-Hee!_ " before belly-laughing and continuing on to his station.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Lunch break.

Magnus sits in a random chair, Clary sitting beside him with his boots resting in her lap. She doesn't mind, though. It was a thing he always did on break. They both are on their phones, Magnus scrolling through his social media page on Instagram, Clary playing skill games. The friends are sharing a bowl of grapes that was resting in the middle of the lounge table before they came in, and since they hadn't made their own lunch earlier, they decided to eat those instead. Magnus is stuffing more grapes in his mouth at a time than normal, the female giving him weird glances from time to time. "Are you nervous or something?" She asks, not looking up from her phone screen, eyebrows knitting together as she tries to concentrate more on the game. The other, however, shifts his gaze to her, jaw clenching. He clears his throat quietly, shaking his head with lips moving upward. "No." He answers simply, shrugging his shoulders. "I just like grapes."

Clary pauses her game to meet eyes with her friend, eyelids squinting. She knew Magnus over-ate sometimes when he felt nervous, but she doesn't pry further. "Okay." She says slowly, trying to die down her suspicion and goes on to change the game she's playing.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

It's noon when Magnus finishes wrapping up the scenes due today. The sun is setting on the horizon, giving the towers of New York a spectacular glimmer. Even though the sun is saying bye-bye, the celebrity's day isn't over _just_  yet. It's far from the finish line. The male is walking out of the studio in a rush, bag lazily draped over the same shoulder the stuffed pockets were on, pulling him down slightly. His phone is resting in between his head and opposing shoulder, an annoyed look in his eyes with the words he spilled into the device making the emotion more apparent.

"For the last time, I can't go." Magnus grunts, making it over to his car and catching his phone before it fell from the slot it was in.

"Oh, bother!" A strong British accent yells closely into their own phone. The unorganized male is lucky to not have his volume up all the way, or else he would be deaf in the right ear. "You always spend time on work! Back then, when you were just as busy, you still stuffed me and Cat into your schedule."

"Ragnor," He sighs the other's name softly, opening the passenger door and dropping his stuff onto the seat carelessly before closing that up and walking to the driver's side, getting inside and readying himself to set off to the music studio. _Hooray_ . . .

"When was the last time you even met up with us?" The other asks, voice still loud.

"Sunday?" Magnus questions the date himself. His insides chasten subtly. Ragnor is right, he realizes. He can't even remember the last time he got to see his closest friends' faces. 

"Sunday of two weeks ago," Ragnor adds, rather sharply. "I bet you don't even remember what we did then." He sounds hurt as his voice softens.

"I'm sorry, Ragnor." The celebrity's voice too goes quiet. " _Really_ sorry."

"Just— try to visit us as much as you can, okay?" His friend finishes, hanging up without a goodbye.

Magnus drops his phone into his lap, exhaling longly. He had let Ragnor's words submerge into his mind so deeply that he didn't realize he hadn't even pushed his car keys into the ignition to at least start his car up. He gulps almost in a parched manner. His fingers curl on the driving wheel, squeezing the rubber to ease himself before he struggles to buckle himself up with one hand and drive off onto the road.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Ah, Mr. Bane!" A smiling male calls out to the well known multi-talented being that just came into the building. He is a tall man in his mid-fifties, still looking better than most men his age. He has slicked back raven hair, wearing a gray suit with matching black dress shoes.

"Magnus," the superstar corrects him, taking the hand of the older male's and smiling nonetheless.

"Oh, right, Mr. _Magnus_." He jokes lightly, only earning an uneasy, forced laugh from the other. The aura turns awkward for a second, Magnus pulling his hand back slowly. "Well," The taller starts up again with a cough, "you got that new song with ya right?"

"Yes, sir." The Costa Rican replies with a nod, wanting to burst out laughing from their uncomfortable moment.

"Well, what're ya standin' here for?" The boss figure chuckles, clapping his shoulder. "Get to it!"

"Aye-aye." Magnus salutes before walking past the other in quick steps to get going to his station. He had left his other belongings in the car besides his cell phone, a binder full of original songs he's created — even the oldest ones from when his career was first starting — and his acoustic guitar, resting in its case on his back.

He makes it into his room, walking in to see his co-producer, Erin. "Hey," the singer greets, gently resting his stuff down on the table in the corner of the room. Erin is eating a chocolate bar in his seat with all the tuning knobs and switches laid out before him, some crumbs and smudges of said treat around his mouth and on his jacket. He waves as a response instead of through his mouth, making Magnus chuckle throatily. "Quite the welcome."

Erin swallows when he's done chewing, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth. "What song do you have this time?"

"It's something shorter than any other _"standard"_ songs going around," He answers after a thought. "Just a little vent song, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders effortlessly, falling to his knees and laying his guitar case down on the floor to unzip it and behold his lovely instrument.

"About what?"

"Oh, uhm," Magnus's brain stops momentarily, him having to blink his eyes rapidly to wake himself back up. "Just hear the lyrics yourself?" His voice squeaks in the end as the words pitch higher.

"Right." Erin's mouth pops as he turns back around in his seat, finishing his bar.

Magnus starts tuning his instrument, strumming the strings one by one, listening by ear before twisting the knobs at the top to make sure they sound right. How long has he played this bad boy for? Three? Four years? Maybe. But what he's glad he's known ever since he got his hands on this beauty is the memory on how the pitches should sound like. When he's done preparing, he brings his guitar and a sheet of paper through the door where he will be singing. He settles down into the stool in the middle of the room, right behind the microphone where headphones hang around the stem. He skims through the paper full of notes and fingerings of this piece before dropping it, letting it swoosh left to right until it rests on the ground. He balances his guitar in his lap before pulling on the headphones, having one ear covered up and the other free so it could listen in on the other sounds around him. 

"Testing, testing, one, two, three." He speaks lowly into the mic, eyes focused on Erin, who is on the other side of the glass. The co-producer puts his thumb up, non-verbally telling him that he heard him clearly. Magnus nods back at him, keeping still for a moment before breathing in.

"You left me breathless, you made me smile." His voice is low and soft, starting the piece off with the gentlest strum of the guitar strings.

"Your embrace was the warmest, but I haven't felt it in a while.

"Empty mattress, and pouring tears. You've left me behind all of these years.

"I wonder what I've done to drive you away, but no matter the reason, I just couldn't make you stay.

"And I'm sorry, ooh, I'm sorry. You deserved the world, but I couldn't provide. I could've thunk it over, if I just had enough time."

Magnus strums a final chord, gulping slowly. "I—" He coughs, "I just— it's not finished a-and I really, _really_ need to fix some notes and make it longer. I just didn't have the time lately and—"

Erin puts his hand up, stopping him from continuing any further with the stammering. His fingers fall besides his index finger, bending once and twice as a direction to the singer to bring himself over. His expression is blank, making Magnus's fingers shake as he holds his guitar by the neck, hops off the stool after taking off the headphones, and peeking his head through the door of the singing area and the tuning. "Yeah?"

"Something really personal happened to you, huh?" Erin says out of the blue, elbow pressing against his knee as he massages his face.

" . . . Yeah."

The other opens his eyes, irises finding the star's, holding them in place. "When the final product is finished, you can just keep the song to yourself, ya know. Such a touchy song, man, don't you think you should keep that stuff for yourself?"

"I've . . . " He bites his lip, breaking their staring contest. "I've made my peace with that."

"By making a whole song about it?" Erin's back straightens. "Listening to music like this, or playing it in general, gets your mood really low, buddy. If you end up listening to your own song on the radio one day it'll only have you latch onto whatever it is your going through tighter, not so?"

"Well—" A sigh of defeat. "Yeah . . . "

"It's your decision to bring this song out to the public, but, just choose the path you think is right okay?"

"Mhm," Magnus hums, deflated. "Just— how long is the song? Of what I played, anyway?" 

"Roughly a minute and three seconds? Maybe shorter?" Erin shrugs.

"Ah . . .  I'll make it longer, then."

"Alright," Erin nods, looking back at the tuning knobs. "Well, since that's it— do you want me to tune anything?"

"Nah," Magnus waves his hand. "It's just a draft. The full thing is what's important."

"Yeah, alright. Make sure to get rest tonight."

"Oh, trust me. I have a _lot_ more to do before I can get anywhere _close_ to sleep." Both men lighten up, sharing half-smiles before Magnus walks out the singing room and to his stuff, resting his guitar in its case and closing it up. He slips on his thin coat and collects his papers, rushing his time to gather his belongings — including the paper he accidentally forgot about in the singing room — and heading out after saying goodbye to Erin.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Luckily enough, Magnus is back home at around nine o'clock in the evening. But what isn't so great is that he isn't passed out on his bed and snoring the night away, instead, he's answering phone calls time and time again. He's tired, it's obvious, but business today is supposed to be done today. If it is postponed it will just move onto the days after, which Magnus did _not_ want. "Yes, yes, Mr. Samuel, I'll try to get to all those interviews tomorrow through Sunday."

Silence slips into the room as Magnus waits patiently for the businessman on the other end of the line to finish blabbing.

"Oh?" He breaks the quiet. He mentally jots this date down. "Interview with— who?"

. . .

"Ah, okay. Interview with Mr. Lightwood on Saturday from twelve to twelve thirty. Got it."

. . .

"You have a good night, too, Mr. Samuel." He hangs up the house phone, laying it down on the table and clasping a fist into the other hand.

"Who's this Lightwood guy?" Sierra asks from nowhere, approaching her mutual and taking a seat beside him.

"I don't know." Magnus shrugs. "I guess he's a new interviewer or something."

"Surely every interviewer has to be known from, at the least, a small company."

"I guess, but maybe Lightwood is on his own right now? Who knows, he could be more than just an interviewer."

"Eh." Sierra lets the conversation go, rubbing the side of her face. A moment's peace, before she says with finality, "I won't be here tomorrow, I promised my family I would join our traditional feast that day."

"Traditional feast on the thirteenth of April?"

"It's something my great-great-grandfather did, then it passed down over time."

"Ah, okay. You deserve a break anyway."

"You're always the one doing the work," She sneers playfully, "you should be having the break." 

"If only my life worked that way."

They sniff and giggle softly at that before Sierra stands and goes over to pick up her purse and her coat, wrapping both those things around her body and heading out with a final wave to the tired male.

He waves back and watches her close the door, locking it with the key he left for only her to use if she arrived late and he was already gone.

It takes a few moments until he hears her car pull out from the driveway and speed off from his home.

He rubs his eyes roughly before standing up himself, forcing his legs to stretch even an inch from each other to walk to his cupboard and get a wine glass then some wine itself. He's always been more of a cocktail man, but settling down for alcohol that isn't so strong is all he needed before he goes to bed. The last thing he wants is to be hung over by only a few glasses in the morning. He pours the clear beverage into the cup and leaves the bottle there, opened and sitting on the countertop, strolling into his living room instead. He does a little twirl before sitting down, letting his back sink into the backrest before reaching over for the remote with exaggerated groans.

He eventually gets the controller in his grasp and pulls it in until his thumb is close enough to press the _power-on_ button. The channel the television opens up to is National Geographic, but Magnus is too lazy to change it, so he just lets it play on.

He sips his wine from time to time, his hand getting too tired to even tilt itself for him to drink from the brim. Everything is exhausting. Expressing interest in what lions do as a pride is exhausting. Even with his pace, the celebrity is able to finish the drink, placing the glass down on the glass table outlined with polished wood in front of him. He doesn't bother to wiggle off his boots before he takes off his fashionable jacket and throw it over to the chair beside the couch and lay down, passing out the second his head hit the soft pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: matt-daddrio


	3. chapter 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter will be all in alecs perspective with a bit of magnus's  
> im introducing characters left to right and im going to continue doing that lmao  
> some characters like erin and sierra ( + more ) are made up characters and are in no way part of the shadowhunters television series.  
> AND !! THIS CHAPTER IS IN NO WAY HINTING AT JALEC SHIPPING. I DO NOT LIKE JALEC, AND I WOULD PREFER IF YOU DO NOT SPEAK ANYTHING OF IT.  
> im just following what the episodes give us.

**Friday, April 13th**

 

Alec tugs at the middle of his flannel, puffing air from his mouth time after time with no signs of stopping the anxious act. Why is he so worked up, you might question. Well—

"Stop overreacting." A female voice groans over to the journalist. Thank you, Isabelle.

Isabelle — called Izzy or Iz for short — is Alec's younger sister and his closest friend. It's a title both were surprised to label one another before, since when they were younger they got into _so_ many fights, but now, Izzy can read Alec without even skimming through his pages. Alec, however, isn't good with that as opposed to her.

"How can I simply _stop_ overreacting?" The boy asks loudly, a huff tied with his words. He releases his shirt from his sweaty palm, wiping both hands on his black jeans. "I'm interviewing one of New York's _most known_ celebrities! Do you want me to simply just look at myself in the mirror and literally push the air away from me and act like those are my emotions?"

Izzy stares at him blankly for a moment, trying to process what he spieled. When she did, however, she burst out laughing, eventually even clutching her tummy to let out the hysteria. Alec couldn't deny the smallest of smiles that spread his lips, but he quickly shakes his head and makes duck lips while stroking his chin to wipe it away. He didn't know what she found funny, but the giggling in the back of his mind begged through breathy chuckles that it should be released anyway. "You have the best humor, big brother." Izzy finally coughs, shoulders still shaking from more laughs bubbling up in her throat. "But no," her voice is quickly solemn, making Alec blink a few times from the quick change. Not something he expected after _that_. "I never want you to push yourself away, but, ya know. Man up." Her giggling returns when she sees Alec's eyes widen, offended. He scoffs, pressing his skinny fingertips to his heart. "Wow!" He yells, leaning back. That breaks into another hysterical wave of cackling from his sister. He rolls his eyes and drops his hand, crossing his arms over his chest instead. "Oh, _haha_ , you're _so_ funny." He says nonchalantly, turning his head to the side as his sibling's laughter blends into the background.

Iz calms again, hand on her chest as she breathes in and out deeply.

"This is not how I expected my coffee morning to go." She wheezes out finally, a grin still bright on her face as she reaches over to her Starbucks Coffee cup and takes a sip. It got a teeny bit colder while the siblings were talking, but she doesn't mind. They're currently sitting outside the said cafe, at one of the tables with umbrellas to cover them. It's sunny again today, but both young adults hadn't brought any sunglasses.

Alec rolls his eyes at the final statement, taking a sip of his own drink.

"So, when is the interview, anyway?" Izzy asks after peace and quiet finally settled between them. "Tomorrow at twelve." The man sighs in response, gulping down a bigger gulp of his tongue-burning black coffee. "I don't know what I'm going to ask, what to do, how to sit—"

"Wait— How to _sit?_ " Izzy interrupts him with her finger.

"Yeah! Ya know, like— Should I have one of my legs bent because my foot will be pressed against the leg of the stool? Wait, will they even have stools?—"

"Jesus Christ, you over-think every little detail!" His sister shakes her head, massaging her forehead.

"I just want to get this perfect." He breathes almost apologetically, dropping his hands in his lap, since he's been flailing them around while trying to rush all his thoughts from his mouth.

"You've done so many other interviews before, Alec."

"Fake. _Fake_ interviews." The other points out literally and figuratively. "And those were little projects. So it was just me dressed in some whacky ass clothing talking to nothing until I edited it." If you hadn't figured it out already, Alec is a college student, along with Izzy and their group of friends. They're all in their early twenties, Alec being the oldest, unsurprisingly. "This one's serious, Iz. I just don't want it to go down badly."

Izzy can see the worry fill him. She frowns softly and gets up from her seat across from her brother, walking over to him and wrapping her short arms around his head. "Don't worry," She mumbles into his hair, gently patting his shoulder to ease his nerves. "Just be yourself." She suggests. "You being who you are is what everyone wants, and that celebrity person can't reject you for it. If he does, then he does. Jerks will be jerks, Alec. They're not worth trying to impress."

A content smile curls the older male's lips as he leans into his sister's embrace before she pulls back. "Thank you." He nods appreciatively.

"Mhm." She nods back, sitting back down in her seat. "Got anything planned for today?" She changes the subject with a sip of her coffee.

"Other than writing down all the questions I'm going to ask Mr. Bane? No." He answers with a lazy shrug, hands clasped in between his legs.

"How about you go hang out with Clary and me?"

"Uh, no."

"Simon will be there."

"No."

"I'll ask Jace to come?" Her voice pitches higher, already out of things to convince Alec with to hang out with her.

An eyebrow perks from the boy skeptically. "If he says yes, then I'm going. If not, no."

"Bingo." Izzy giggles, sipping her coffee once more.

Jace is a mutual friend of both Izzy and Alec, but there's a _slight_ difference.

Wanna know the difference?

Well, Alec has a crush on him. His feelings are confused and not so strong, but he likes him nonetheless.

Izzy knows this, and sometimes she teases him about it, but does nothing more.

"Where are you guys going, anyway?" Alec asks, sipping his drink, and to his surprise, it was the last.

"Mall, then the movie theater." She thinks for a minute. "Well, I know for sure we're going to the mall, but the movie theater? Maybe. We still haven't decided what movie to watch." She corrects herself.

"Mm." Alec hums, bobbing his head. His empty styrofoam cup sits still in his hands, getting warmer from his heat.

"Do you want me to buy tickets for you just in case?" Izzy again breaks the pause.

"Call Jace first. Verify it with him."

"Right, good idea." She pulls out her mobile from her mini purse, turning it on and unlocking the lock screen and going to her contacts.

"Wait— When are you guys going to the mall?"

"1:30?" Izzy tries to recall the time Clary had told her about an hour ago. "Around that time, yeah."

"Your memory is horrible." Alec snickers, earning a tongue being stuck out at him childishly. "I'm gonna call your lover boy now, don't interrupt me." She warns, tapping Jace's contacts on her phone and putting the device to her right ear, waiting for the blond to answer.

The journalist can feel his face boil under his skin, popping like popcorn as red blush tints his cheeks and the tips of his ears out of embarrassment. He mocks her as payback, facial expressions exaggerated and his hands moving around as words spilled from the other's mouth, fingers pressing on and off against each other as if they were talking. Like sock puppets, sorta.

Izzy gives him side glances from time to time, a smile threatening to let out a giggle every time. She fights back, though, continuing the little chit-chat she and Jace held.

She finally hangs up after another minute or so, placing her phone face-down on the metal table. "He said sure." She informs, finally finishing her beverage, which is now cold. "That means you'll be hanging out with me today, big bro."

Alec rolls his eyes, not bothering to deny the smile that flashed to the female. "Well," he stands with a huff. "I need to get going." He picks up his cup, ready to throw it in the trashcan next to the Starbucks building. "Where are we meeting up?"

"The mall at 1:20, just in case if anyone's late."

"Right. See you then." With that, Alec turns and drops his cup in the trash bin and starts down the sidewalk to his home.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Mr. Bane," Alec says to himself in his apartment living room, legs crossed formally as he practices his lines, "how long have you been going on with your career?— Ack, no, such cliche questions." He shakes his head, crossing that question off his notepad with a crappy ballpoint pen. Yes, he actually did write questions to ask.

"Sir," He goes in for another question, face scrunching at how he started it off. "Ugh, no." He scribbles the _sir_ from the second question, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Goddamn . . . " He mutters under his breath. He's trying so hard to get everything just right, to impress this celebrity with all the charm he has. Which— he doesn't have much of. Izzy's right. He over-thinks too much for his own good. But he just wants to make sure nothing goes wrong. It's not what he needs right now, especially with exams coming up and all.

If this question has been settling in your mind for a bit now, I'll answer for you. Alec is interviewing Mr. Bane for a project he has to do. Since it is the last semester, and summer break is nearing, Alec wanted so desperately to make this final project special.

"Ya know what?" Alec blurts, dropping his notepad and pen to the ground with a slam. "Iz is right. I'll just be myself." He leans back into his seat and wipes his face with his hand, uncrossing his legs and "man-spreading" to relax.

He pulls his phone out from his pocket and looks at the time. 12:32.

A whiny groan leaves his mouth, shutting his eyes. He forces himself to get up and walk over to his room, stiffly moving his legs to simply go forward. He makes it to his destination anyway and digs through his drawers messily to find something good to wear. Why he won't stay in the same clothing is beyond me, but it's his choice. He picks out a plain white T-shirt with a thin camouflage jacket and blue jeans that faded at the knee.

He already showered last night, so he doesn't bother washing his entire self now, only washing his face and brushing his teeth when he was done switching into his newly chosen attire. He slips on boots, typically made for snow days, just so it can match with what he's wearing. When he is back in his living room, he picks up his phone which he left behind to prepare. He checks the time, seeing in big font, 12:57. Alec bites his lip and scratches the back of his head, looking around. He mentally makes a map in his mind and estimates the distance between his apartment complex and the mall. It would roughly take fifteen minutes to get there if there won't be really bad traffic.

He presses his fingertips to his lips, deciding whether to leave now or not. It doesn't take long before he just shrugs his shoulders and just wings it. He grabs his car keys hanging at the wrack next to the front door after slipping his phone into his jacket pocket, leaving his room and locking the door before speeding down a few stairwells until he's in the lobby. He waves to the receptionist subconsciously and pushes himself out the door, looking for his vehicle in almost a rushed manner. He finds his bland, old, gray Honda and unlocks the door with the button on his keys, slipping into the driver's seat and putting the said keys in the ignition, turning it until the car dinged and the radio suddenly started booming some song by Charlie Puth. The noise is mixed with static that gets heavy and drowns out the voice every once in a while, but again, this is an old car, so he can't get mad at it.

"How long has this been going on? You've been creepin' 'round on me, while you're callin' me "baby"!" The lyrics spew from the ragged radio, Alec still being able to jam and sing to it as he buckles himself up and drives to the edge of the parking spaces, waiting for an opportunity to slip into the chaos.

Alec's a decent singer, believe it or not. Though his voice is slightly hoarse at this moment, if he actually bothered to make his voice clearer, he'd be sounding fine. He isn't the best singer ever, with his voice being so deep and him not having any confidence whatsoever to sing in front of anybody but Iz.

"You've been actin' so shady, I've been feelin' it lately!" The journalist hums softly to himself, waiting at the edge of the parking lot before disappearing into the wave of cars on the road.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Well hello, Edward Cullen." Simon greets Alec when he walks over.

Alec rolls his eyes with a scoff. Everyone laughs at the joke, but they don't go on his defense. He does look very pale—

Oh? Something catches his eyes.

Jace.

Alec straightens his posture, clearing his throat and trying to show himself as more appealing. "Hey, guys. Jace," He greets everyone, but nods to Jace directly with the slightest of nods. The blond gets it and does the same in return, walking over with a side grin to share their dumb handshake. Izzy watches their hands move unconsciously, biting the side of her lip. She didn't approve of who Alec preferred to be his partner. She's not bashing on him for being gay, _never would she ever_. She'll support him until the end of time— but, what she's trying to say — trying to hint at, rather — is that Jace wouldn't be a good romantic partner. He moves around too often, and he's straight. Even if he were gay, Jace is known to be a player. And that is not what Alec likes. Izzy knows he likes being in long, committed relationships, and the blond just doesn't cut it.

"Iz?" Alec snaps her out of her debating daze with a quizzical look. "You ready to go or?"

"Uh, yeah." She stands from the bench she's sitting on, flattening her skirt on her thighs and walking up to her brother's side, wrapping her arm around his almost protectively. She gives a quick side glance to Jace before pulling herself and her sibling into the mall, the rest of the group following behind.

She releases Alec's arm once there's a distance between him and the blond, but he just stops and waits to stand by the other before continuing down the aisle.

Izzy doesn't want her disapproval to become obvious by yelling at Alec to get his ass right back to her side, so her steps go on, too, but more hesitantly now. She walks slow and steady, making Simon and Clary, the two greatest friends in the entire universe, might I add, run in front of her like children. The black-haired female looks over her shoulder sneakily, seeing Alec standing so close to Jace that their shoulders brushed against each other every so often. Intentionally? Accidentally? She doesn't know. She sighs quietly, turning back around and shuffling quickly to catch up with Clary and Simon.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

**Saturday, April 14th**

 

 Last night isn't what Alec wanted. It's the last of all his desires, even. All he can remember from last night is leaving the movie theater with the crew and someone in their group suggesting to go to the bar.

 

 _"I think I'll pass," Alec says, stepping back on the suggestion Simon makes to go and swallow a few shots before driving home. He didn't approve of drinking when you know you'll be driving right after. It still isn't safe, even if you're the_ tiniest _bit hazy. Izzy isn't a drinker, but she convinces Alec to tag along anyway. They all get in their cars —Alec and Simon sharing a car and Izzy, Jace, and Clary sharing the other — and drive to Hunter's Moon, the local Brooklyn bar, in a short amount of time._

_They all meet up with one another again, parking as close to each other as the can. They get out of their cars and walk together into the bar. It's crowded and loud. Alec feels slightly claustrophobic with how limited everyone's personal space is, including his own. It feels like he has to hold his breath just to slip by every stranger and huddle near his mutuals. "Don't worry," Izzy nudges him with her elbow. "You'll be fine. We're here." She shines a reassuring smile at him, hand resting on his shoulder. He forces himself to relax, cracking a little smile of his own. He exhales, standing close to his sibling. "Right."_

_Unsurprisingly enough, Jace is already at the bar, trying his best to flirt with the bartender. A young African-American woman, around the same age as Alec and his group, is unshed of any amusement. She just looks annoyed. The journalist wants to laugh, but he keeps himself quiet. He joins the others at a small, unoccupied table and chats before Jace joins with a tray of small shots for himself, Simon and Alec. There are two extra, but Iz and Clary kindly turn down the offer. The three men look at each other and gulp down their alcohol, Alec a bit hesitant at first. His nose wrinkles in distaste for the beverage, trying to bite back a small screech when the drink burned down his throat. He plays it off the best he can with a cough, a bit exaggerated. Simon, on the contrary, is howling with hyperactivity. "Another one, boy!" He yells, him and Jace giggling before walking with each other to get another refill._

_Izzy, and even Clary this time, read Alec's reluctance and his want to leave. They share glances to each other, and Izzy is about to suggest she drives her big brother home, but the two other guys are back with more shot glasses filled to the brim with vodka. They rest it on the table and take one for themselves, holding it up in the air, waiting for Alec so they can click their glasses together. The journalist's Adam's apple bobs as he gulps down his saliva, reaching for a glass and swallowing it as quick as he can without choking so the taste won't burn his insides again._

 

"Fuck," Alec whispers, hand cupped on his forehead. He's hungover, and it _really_ blows. He wants to sleep in for the rest of the day, and that's what he does. He closes his eyes, relaxing under his covers and sinking into his mattress. Ah, yes, this is what he needs. A nice, peaceful—

"SHIT!" He suddenly bolts upright on his bed, rushing to his feet so quickly his body couldn't keep up with his mind, making him fall out of his precious bed and groan when his back hit the roughly carpeted floor. His arms go limp on the ground like the rest of him. He exhales, a long and _"I'm very annoyed at myself"_ sort of one. When he can feel his limbs again, he stands up and stumbles over to his bathroom. He's still in the clothes he wore yesterday, besides the shoes. He is a complete _mess_. His breath reeks of alcohol, and his hair looks like someone rubbed a balloon on his head so many times that it spiked up better than people that wore mohawks. He tries patting the strands down, but it doesn't fix anything. He looks over to his shower curtains, blankly staring at the patterns before stripping off his clothes without a second thought and begins to wash his filthy body under the satisfying burn of the shower water.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"You've been waiting for this moment, Alec, you can do this." The journalist talks to himself in his dresser mirror, tugging at the hem of his suit shirt nervously. His palms are sweaty, much like yesterday. He tries to stare at himself all high and mighty, trying to cover himself up with confidence. But masks always let the eyes peek through the plastic. And through Alec's, there is dread.

He swipes his hair to the side to show more of his complexion, huffing out a final breath to calm himself before grabbing his phone that has been resting on the nightstand this whole time. It's thirty percent, but it'll have to do, because it's already 11:41.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

The journalist makes it to the small studio in the quieter places of the town. It doesn't make much of a difference from any other space, but it's more peaceful, I guess. He didn't want Mr. Bane to struggle to get through the doors like he probably already does on the daily. He hopes the celebrity didn't arrive before him; it's already around 12:05. He strides into the building, looking left and right to try and spot the receptionist. He does after a little bit of looking, walking over. "Hey," He greets breathily, waving and smiling. The woman at the desk smiles back, the edges of her mouth going high enough to have wrinkles at her eyes. "Hello," she responds enthusiastically.

"Heh," he chuckles, feeling awkward suddenly. "I believe there's an interviewing room reserved for the name _'Lightwood'_?"

"Ah, okay." She nods, looking at her computer and typing a few words in, scrolling down with the mouse to her right. She's probably scrolling down a list of people's names. It must be a lot of names considering it took quite some time until she finally _"aha!"_ 'd and again nodded to the young adult. "Your room is 2B." She informs, opening a drawer and digging through it before she pulls out a key necklace. She hands it over to Alec and smiles, smile more soft and not forced-looking. "Thank you." He mimics the same grin and walks away from her, going down the halls with guidance from the signs plastered on the peach-colored walls. It takes more minutes off his time as he runs down a few hallways to find the one his room is supposed to be in. He aspires in relief and unlocks the door, stepping inside. There are already lights and a tripod set up, it just needs a camera. Luckily, he brought his own camera, and placed it on the stand, fixing it. There's a guy already in there. Alec guesses he's just one of the helpers. He nods toward him and takes a seat in one of the rather comfy chairs and sinks into the cushion. He almost feels content, if it weren't for the fact that he's about to interview one of New York's top celebrities.

Calm down, calm down, calm down—

Oop, his hands are clammy again. He shakes his head and just wipes his palms on his knees, ridding of his sudden anxiety rush while he read through the crappy questions he wrote down. "Hey." The random dude gets his attention.

"Uh, yeah?" Alec stops his huge intakes of breath, locking eyes with the other.

"Is this your . . . first time or something?" He asks slowly, eyebrow cocking.

"With another person, yes." He says shakily. "It's usually just been skits with just myself for other projects, so, ya know . . . " His voice dies, thinking the recorder isn't interested in his blabber.

"Ah. College student, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Hmph, you'll be okay, sport." He says, awkwardly trying to be reassuring.

"Thank you, sir." Alec appreciates what he's trying to do, but his palms continue to become hot and wet. To distract himself, he just stares at his paper filled with his messy handwriting. He runs a hand through his hair, tips of his fingers grazing his forehead. He's burning hot. Jesus Christ, Alec.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

This interview is really running behind schedule. It's already 12:17, and there's no sign of Mr. Bane. Did he cancel it? And if he did, wouldn't his boss call in to tell him the stomach-churning news? Is he just running late?

The doubt slowly starts to consume Alec from the bottom, crawling up all the way to his head. He looks heartbroken. He really wanted this to go right. He wanted to show everyone in his class that he interviewed _Magnus Bane_ in the flesh.

Not all dreams come true, he concludes. Saddened, he reaches for his bag behind his chair to pack up his stuff.

The doorknob clicks.

"Goodness me!" A voice says clumsily. Alec looks up, and his jaw nearly detaches from his skull. His eyes go as wide as tennis balls. It's _him_. _Magnus Bane!_

In the corner of the journalist's eyes, he can even see the recorder dude as astonished as he is. It's like they finally saw Jesus in person.

"Ah!" Magnus speaks, looking over to Alec, eyelids shaded a deep black, but not so deep that he looked goth. It's enough to make him look absolutely _beautiful_. Alec coughs into his fist, fixing his posture after he drops his bag back down to the ground. He wipes his shock as best he can, trying to put on a calm and collected smile. "You must be Mr. Alexander Lightwood." Magnus plops into the seat across from him with another sigh, a comfortable one at that. "How did you know my full name?" Alec chokes on his words, his smile widening slightly.

"Lucky guess?" Magnus hums, shrugging his shoulders and copying the same grin the journalist has glued on his face.

Alec just really wants to shout that this man is _gorgeous_. Absolutely _gorgeous_.

He's breathless.

"Ahem," He clears his throat. Suddenly the room loses its air, and Alec feels suffocated. He tries to wipe it off his shoulders and shakes his head, his eyes meeting those golden-browns. "Well, do you wanna start now?"

"I'd love to, pretty boy." Magnus sneaks a wink, Alec's face burning brighter than lava. He shuffles the papers in his hands and puts a thumbs-up to the recorder, who presses play after he's given the signal.

"Hello, Brooklyn College," Alec greets the camera with a wave, feeling uncomfortable to have a _superstar_ watch him do a stupid intro. "I am Alec Gideon Lightwood, and today I have with me, yes, Magnus Bane in the flesh!" He turns his head to look at this _to-die-for_ man, the smile that just faded returning in an instant. Magnus waves at the camera as well, a cheeky grin on his face. "Yes, it is I, Magnus Bane!" He introduces himself dramatically, leaning into the seat just for a bit more shimmer, ya know?

Alec chuckles quietly, looking down at his paper and reminding himself this isn't just a casual conversation. This is about questions and answers and impressing others because, let's be real, every class in college can be competitive with anything nowadays.

"So, Mr. Bane—"

"Oh, please, dear boy, call me Magnus." The other cuts him off, an insistent pucker of his lips forming.

"Ah, right." He coughs softly in his mouth. "So, Magnus," he corrects himself, "I'll be asking some questions, and hopefully you'll be able to answer all of them."

"I'll answer them with as much honesty as I can, good sir." He manages to get Alec to snicker ever so subtly.

"Alright, well, question one: I know this is a bit sudden, but everyone has been asking about your sexual orientation after the past relationships you've shared publicly before. And I'm aware I just said I wanted you to answer all questions, but for this one, it's an exception."

"You are such a considerate young man, aren't you?" Magnus hums, impressed. "Well, since everyone nowadays needs verification for everything, I am bisexual. I have no preference over the other, both genders just simply appeal to me."

Alec nods his head. "This isn't written down on my paper but— in a relationship currently?"

"Oh, deary me, no." Magnus lets out a breath, laughing throatily. "Since my previous break up — what? Three, four, years ago? — I've put a big ol' stop sign in front of romantic attraction."

"Ah." Alec simply comments, not knowing what to say. _So he's available_ , he thinks. He blinks a few times to rid of that thought. Like he'd ever have a chance with someone like _Magnus Bane_. He likes Jace, anyway.

. . . Does he not?

He mentally shakes his head and focuses back on the other, who is waiting to be asked another question. "Ph-Well," the journalist stammers, not expecting to be pushed in and out of his own head so quickly. "Got any works comin' up? Like a li'l gig, er, something?" He asks, choking on air once more. He sucks his lips into his mouth, gulping his saliva nervously.

"Yes, actually." Magnus nods. "I can't say much about it, unfortunately. But, what I can say is that the title is called _The Birds Do What They Will_. I believe the trailer has been posted on social media, no matter which site, two weeks ago?" He taps his chin, before nodding in verification. "Yeah, it was posted two weeks ago. My friend Clary—"

Alec lets that snap in his head before he suddenly interrupts, "Clary? As in, Clary Fray?"

"Yes? You know her?" The celeb points at him, his eyes now widened. "Yeah, she's a close friend of my sister, and—"

"Does she go by Izzy, by any chance?" Alec can see Magnus wanting so badly to jump up and scream. He looks ecstatic. "Yeah, she does!" The journalist replies, his grin wide and causing wrinkles near his eyes. "I am not even kidding when Clary talks about your sister every single day! She goes on and on about how Izzy is such a great friend; I'm jealous!" Magnus jokes, a giggle that warmed Alec's tummy tailing his words.

When their grins fade and they settle back down, Alec continues, "Okay, next question."

 

( & & & & & & )

 

The interview ends, which is upsetting to the journalist. He really enjoyed the conversation he and Magnus had. It was mostly filled with giggling and relating to each other. It was the best experience Alec ever had. Better than seeing Simon drunk when the crew was around the age of nineteen and laughing his ass off. Man, they couldn't stop cackling at it for  _ages_. And it's still ongoing!

But, I digress.

The camera is now shut off, the recorder going out the room to go take a whiz. Magnus is still there and, instead of packing up, he rips a piece of paper from a little booklet, handing it over to Alec, who is wiping his camera clean with his sleeve and is about to stuff it into its bag.

"Oh." Alec stares at the paper held out to him, then to the celeb. "I'd like your number." He says straightforwardly, an interested smirk on his lips. A lump forms in Alec's throat. He can't breathe again. "Oh, ah— sure." He stutters, mentally slapping himself to pull it together. He hesitantly takes the piece and scribbles some digits and dashes on the line, handing it back to Magnus quickly. "Here." He stiffly offers back, smiling sheepishly.

"Expect a call soon." Magnus winks once again, and Alec loses it. His face turns pink, biting his chapped lips. Magnus holds onto the paper in between his fingertips when he's done packing his stuff. "S-sure thing." Alec waves, Magnus waving back as he pushes out the door and leaves.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"How dare you not tell me you knew him?!" Magnus yells at Clary through his cellular device, walking back and forth in his living room.

"You never seem to care about the people you're interviewed by!" She retorts in defense.

"Well, Alec is so gorgeous! You always tell me about the gorgeous people!"

"That are celebrities, Magnus." She informs in a reminding tone. "Alec's not a celeb. Just a friend of mine."

"And _he's_ just my knight in shining armor!"

"Oh, stop being overdramatic. He's probably not even into dudes."

"I'll try my best to crack his code."

"Pssh," Clary snorts. "You do you, Mag."

The celebrity cringes at the name. "Number one, ew, that name, and number two, I will."

He can hear Clary go hysterical on the other end. "Pfft, okay, Bane. See you Monday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: matt-daddrio


	4. chapter 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heck dudes whaddup its ya boi reese  
> its been, what, months ? since i last updated this story ? so im back yo  
> also !! perspectives change a lot in this chapter !!  
> !!! TRIGGERING THEMES/WORDS ARE USED IN THIS CHAPTER. DISCRETION IS ADVISED !!!

It's a Sunday morning, beautiful but harsh with the sunlight. Shadows are darker than on dimmer days, but no one's complaining. Clary's decided to go for a free day today, since tomorrow is a hard-work day. She originally planned to go around town by herself when Simon apologetically — like, seriously, there were so many apologies — declined her offer. She even asked Izzy, but she scheduled a date with Meliorn somewhere in the afternoon of today. She was okay with being alone, but before she and Izzy finished their call, Izzy suggested to bring along Alec. She explained he was stressing because Maryse, their mother, was visiting tomorrow, along with their father, and as the oldest, Alec had to blabber on about what he's accomplished so far, or he'd have to listen to _her_ blabbering.

So, that's where she is now. Strolling around a small town with a big guy.

Alec's been quiet most of the walk, just giving huffs and shaking his head while thinking of what's going to happen tomorrow or a little hum of approval to the offer of grabbing a drink here and there.

"Hey," Clary finally kills the awkwardness. "Izzy told me what's going to happen tomorrow," — Alec shivers — "but don't be so anxious."

Alec gives her the deadest look he's ever given anyone. "Don't be so anxious?" He repeats. "My parents are  _living_ ice cubes. Cold inside-out but is still able to burn your tongue."

The redhead blinks, but just pats his shoulder with her gentle palm. "Sorry." She says softly. "But— Maybe it won't even play out as bad as you think it might."

"If only." And with that, the conversation is dismissed.

Both of them stop at a bench near the boardwalk and take a seat, letting their legs rest from the ache of walking a few miles.

_Vrr, vrr._

Alec's phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and stares at his screen. Unknown caller. An eyebrow perks, but he silently answers the phone. "Uh, hello? Who is this?"

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

"Alexander! Hi." Magnus exclaims smoothly, lips curled into a pleasant smile. He places his glass of alcohol down on the little table near the window he was just looking out of, turning himself over as to not let the shine of the sun blind him for much longer. "It's me, Magnus." He reveals himself, picking up a misplaced book and slowly making his way over to the bookshelf at the other side of the room. "We met the other day, y'know, with the interview."

"Uh, yeah," Alec responds lowly, recalling the memory. But let's be serious, how could he forget? "Yeah, hey, what's up?"

"I was just thinking; it was really nice getting to know you." He slips through a tight space between his couch and fireplace, reaching his destination. "You seem . . . sympathetic." He has one last thought as he slips the book into its slot. "Would you like to go for a drink sometime?"

He waits for a cold three seconds, earning an awkward and flustered approval. "That sounds fun, uhm . . . When?"

Magnus's content smile grows into a grin. "How 'bout right now?"

"Uhm—"

 _"Simon!"_ Magnus can hear a feminine voice through the speaker, an eyebrow perking. Is that Clary?

"Now might not be a good time." Alec sounds dismayed. "Another time."

 _"Alec, come on! Simon's playing a morning gig, let's go!"_ Again, Magnus can hear Clary's voice hastily ushering Alec to come watch with her before he hangs up.

The superstar himself is also upset with the abrupt end to their chit-chat, but he smirks nonetheless. He stares at Alec's contact and twirls his wrist, eyes sparkling with determination. "Playing hard to get. I like a challenge."

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

"Isn't it, what, only eleven?" Alec joins with Clary in the crowd of people listening to Simon play. "On days like this, I should be asleep until one."

"Hush!" Clary hisses, trying to jump as high as she can to see her best friend performing. Alec snorts at her struggle despite the sass he received, watching her little boots only get off the ground by an inch for not even a second. "Need me to hold you up Lion King style?" He teases, getting elbowed in his arm. He winces more from surprise than anything else, shoulders shaking while he giggles.

"Let's move up." The redhead gives up trying to look ahead of people, taking hold of Alec's wrist and dragging him past everyone instead, muttering apologies to strangers as they shuffle through messily.

"You know," Alec says when he and the girl are finally able to see Simon in action, "I never wanted to be here."

"Well, you are," Clary says, watching Simon with too much awe to hit the other again. Alec sees that look in her eye. A little sparkle of amazement and adoration. To Simon. She might even like him. He realizes he was staring and quickly fixes his gaze on the performance. Lucky he didn't get caught. He clears his throat and tucks his hands into his pockets, feeling the case of his phone and the rough pattern it had. Soft gold and royal blue.

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

It takes about an hour or more until Simon finally wraps up his set, and thank _God_ Alec isn't dead. He was _forced_  by Clary to stand there and watch every single move and listen in on every single word the other sang. He got so tired at one point his legs buckled and he felt himself about to collapse right there. But, whoopty-doo Clary was there to shake him awake. The four times he was out of it.

The whole crowd was already gone, pretty much everyone that watched leaving a couple bucks inside of Simons guitar case. _Goddamn, that's a lot of money_.

Him and Clary stayed back, though, just so they could talk to Simon and compliment his gig. Well, it's what Clary did. Alec just stayed back, leaning against the railing holding him back from falling into the ocean below. He licks his lips and looks behind him, eyes narrowing into the thinnest of slits when he's greeted with the burning glow of the sun. He turns back quickly and blinks, the floaters in his eyes disappearing after a while. He pulls out his phone and minds his own business, going through social media and looking at assignments his teacher has assigned online for him to complete. He grunts, sucking his teeth at the news that one assignment was due today at eleven fifty-nine tonight. And it's on something he either wasn't there to learn or he didn't pay attention. _Hooray_ , he thinks glumly.

Then, suddenly, he remembers the call he's gotten from earlier. From Magnus. His heart skips beats at a time and he gives an ugly, girlish wheeze. He puts a hand to his heart and clutches onto his shirt tightly. He goes into his contacts and clicks on Recents, finding supposedly Magnus's number at the very top. He clicks on that and makes a contact out of it, titling him "Super Star" with a star emoji. Pssh.

He bites his lip to calm a cheesy grin plastered on his face, failing to hold it back as he releases his bottom lip and beams.

Then . . . He thinks of Jace. And gulps. How long has he even liked him for? They've known each other ever since fourth grade, but . . . He never really developed feelings for him until middle school. "Ah." He breathes, smile gone as his thoughts consume him. _I'll . . . I'll tell him._

He feels a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, making his mouth turn dryer than the Sahara desert. _Maybe_.

"Alec, hey." Clary breaks the other away from his thoughts, a curious look on her face. "You okay?" She asks, stepping forward, reaching her arm out slowly but refraining from touching him.

"Oh, uh— uhm, yeah." Alec spills his words in an almost mis-understandable manner, more sweat falling down his face.

"You seem . . . Out of it. Are you sure?" The redhead points out.

"Absolutely. It's, uh— just hot out and, y'know, I was pretty tired because I had to wait for Simon to end his gig and for you to stop talking to him." They share a chuckle.

Clary pulls her arm back and nods her head. "Yeah, okay. Well, Simon already left in his van a few minutes ago, so, I can walk with you back to your apartment or we could just hang out for a little while longer."

"How about just hang out at my place? We can invite some more people from the gang."

"Well, we could call Simon back here, but it would be cruel of us for him to make a U-turn just to spend time with us. He told me the performance he did drained everything from him."

Alec nods. "Yeah, and, isn't it already twelve or something?"

"Yeah." Clary answers solidly, starting to walk in some random direction, Alec following. "Izzy said she had a date with Meliorn sometime this afternoon. I don't know when but we shouldn't hit her up if she's already preparing."

"Mm." The male hums, lingering behind the other slightly. "Then what about Jace?" He says out of the blue.

Both their eyes light up. Especially Clary's. It's that same twinkle in her eyes when she looked at Simon. But more . . . Passionate.

A cool chill runs down from his head to his ankles. _Does she like him, too?_

"Yeah, good idea!" She says enthusiastically. "He seems like the only person that's ever free at times like these."

"Because he's the ultimate slacker." Alec snorts.

Clary giggles, shaking her head.

They continue on with their walk even with their feet pounding every time they raise and hit the ground. Still, they are pushed forward until they make it to Alec's apartment complex, having to travel some steps until they make it to his floor.

He unlocks his door and waits for Clary to step inside first, slipping in behind her. He closes and locks the door when he's in, rushing to his couch just to collapse in it. He can't take another step. Literally.

Clary sits down in the comfy chair right next to Alec and sinks into contentment, pulling her phone from her mini purse. "I'm gonna call Jace to see if he's free, okay?" She informs, typing in some things on her screen before raising the device to her ear.

Alec closes his eyes and inhales quietly, swallowing down his nervousness and worry. _Today. Today I'm confessing._

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

Jace arrives to Alec's apartment complex around fifteen minutes after Clary called him to spend time together. He didn't have anything going on — he never does — so he might as well. He walks up some stairs until he reaches Alec's floor, remembering it was on the third since he's been here quite the amount of times.

He stands in front of Alec's door, tapping his knuckles on the wood with no hesitation.

The door opens up after some voices finish chattering and a pair of foot steps stumble to the door. When he hears a _click_ and said door swings open, he's greeted by Alec.

"Hey." Alec smiles softly, welcoming him in.

"Hey." Jace replies, the same fond smile curling his lips. He steps inside and spots Clary holding a bowl of . . . Popcorn? It's just barely turned one; are they going to watch a movie or something?

"Clary, hi." Jace greets her, too, stepping over to her. "Hey, Jace!" She grins sweetly, giving a small wave. She puts the bowl on the coffee table she stood over, plopping down on a random spot on the couch. She grabs a handful of the buttered popped corns and stuffs them into her mouth casually, getting comfortable in her seat.

Jace takes the middle seat on the couch, and Alec the other end. "Sooo," the blond drags, "what are we gonna be doing?"

"Play games and probably watch some movies, I guess." Alec answers, shoulders shrugging lazily.

Both Clary and Alec are still in the clothes they were walking in the whole day. They have their shoes on and everything. Clary is an exception — because this isn't her place — but Alec should've changed by now. He smells like half wet dog and half _super ultra manly man_. Oh, well.

"Sweet." Jace smiles. "Which one are we starting with?"

"Gaming?" Alec shrugs again. "I can set up the Xbox or something."

"Yeah, sure."

Alec stands and walks over to the T.V., digging around for cables and controllers after he turned said T.V. and Xbox on.

As they waited, Jace talked with Clary about random things like, _"How was your day?"_ and the reply would be, _"Good."_ That normal stuff.

A few minutes pass with Alec grunting and cursing quietly to himself after he finally got everything settled. He only had two controllers, and Clary insisted he and Jace go first so she can watch, since she isn't really a gamer.

"Alright." Alec side-glances Jace. "Ready to get your ass beat?"

"Hah, more like vise versa."

"Try me."

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

Two hours pass of yelling and raging and laughing with the three pals going at it and tossing their everything at the games Alec has. Cartridges are scattered on his carpet, game discs either on the floor as well or on the table in a pile. Now all three were relaxing their numb hands and blinking their vision back while watching some random movies on demand.

Jace yawns, stretching his arms up to crack the bubbles in his joints. "Oh, yeah," he huffs breathily, "that feels nice."

Being not one, not two, but _three_ immature young adults, they all snort at that, taking the satisfactory comment as a sexual innuendo. Very funny, guys.

Jace doesn't notice Alec's mouth open and close with reluctance when they calm down until he finally speaks his name.

"Jace." He says, quietly. "Can we— . . . talk?" He struggles to let the words out, eyes suddenly apprehensive. "In private?"

"Oh—" Jace mumbles, nodding slowly. "Yeah." He and Alec get up and go over to Alec's room just steps away and get inside, closing the door.

"So?" Jace turns from the door and to his friend. "What is it you need to talk about?"

Alec's hands are clasped tightly together, his knuckles almost turning white. _Why's he so nervous?_

"Before I say anything," he begins, voice shaking, "you have to _promise_ not to tell _anyone_ about this."

"I promise." Jace says sincerely, shoulders tensing with the anticipation of what's going to happen.

"Good." Alec turns, breathing heavily to calm himself.

"I—" He coughs after a while, immediately silencing himself. He thinks of how to word it, mouth opening and chomping closed again and again.

"You, what?" Jace steps forward. "Alec, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you—"

"I love you!" Alec says rather loudly. "I've liked you since middle school. I've never liked anyone more. I've never even liked anyone, _ever_ , except for you." He spills and spills.

Appalled, Jace backs up a step. He only saw Alec like a brother. Never anything more. Not romantically; nothing. _He doesn't like boys_.

"Alec . . . " The blond breathes slowly, trying to process everything. Trying to process Alec's feelings, _his_ feelings. Does he even think Alec is a person anymore?

"Alec, I . . . I can't. I'm sorry. I . . . I only see you as my brother. I don't . . . Like boys. I'm not gay."

Jace can see the dread fill not only Alec's eyes, but _everywhere_. His cheeks turn pink from embarrassment, and his nose turns red as he fights back tears. "Right, yeah, yeah . . . Gotcha." Alec nods, backing up, too. "Sorry."

Jace doesn't have the will to speak. He just nods back, giving Alec an almost unforgiving look before he turns to the door and puts his hand on the doorknob.

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

Clary slowly lifts her head up from Alec's bedroom door. Her heart has sunk into her stomach with so much sympathy for Alec and getting rejected. And after all that time of bottling up his feelings for Jace . . .

She hears the doorknob click, and immediately she dives for the couch, trying to act casual.

When she sees Jace step out, she stuffs another handful of popcorn into her mouth. With her voice muffled, she goes. "Hey, Jace."

"Hey, Clary." His voice is soft, distracted. "I have to go." He says flatly, walking over to grab his phone and sleeveless leather jacket from the empty chair beside Clary.

"Oh, why?" She asks, gulping down the mushy sustenance.

"I, uh, remembered I would get some drinks at the bar with some friends. Yeah." He slips on his jacket and walks over to the door. They don't share goodbyes, rather Clary watches impatiently as the blond steps out and closes the door before she jumps up and runs to Alec's room, barging in to see a distraught Alec sitting on his bed, fighting tears with all his strength. He looks up, eyes glossy with tears threatening to pour.

"Oh, Alec." Clary gasps, running over and embracing her friend as tightly as she can. He doesn't hug back, instead he lays his face in her shoulder and soon enough, she feels her clothes become drenched in tears.

"I heard everything, and I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but you didn't deserve the response you got."

Alec's breaths get heavier, and hiccups are heard, making his shoulders jump every five seconds.

Clary feels bony hands on her back, gripping her soft, mint green silk shirt with all their might. "I'm so sorry for you, Alec. Even after all that time you've hid yourself." Alec starts weeping, his sulks and sobs louder than a baby's. "You worked up all your courage to tell him and you get this." She sighs. "He doesn't deserve you."

The crying only gets louder.

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

Ah, monday. The day everyone hates. Especially now.

Clary is at the studio where she and Magnus are acting for their upcoming movie. She's already in character, looking around every once in a while to see if her friend showed up.

It takes about fifty head turns until she sees Magnus walking in from the front door, dressed like the fashionista he is. "Magnus! Hi!" She shouts, waving as high as she could to catch his attention. Magnus does the same, and even with the distance, Clary can see his pearly-whites shine in a golden grin.

He eventually makes it over and drops his belongings on his chair, skipping over once everything he was carrying was out of his hands. "Hey! How are you?" He asks happily, giving her a brief hug.

"I'm doing great, thanks!" She smiles, her exhaustion biting at her eyes. She spent all night comforting Alec. Poor him . . .

"What about you?"

"Well, actually. Sierra keeps gaping at how generous I am. Can't believe she isn't over it." He snorts.

"Well, you're probably the nicest celebrity there is here in New York. You're pretty great, y'know."

"Oh, stop. I'm flattered." Magnus waves her off playfully, sharing a giggle. "So, anything eventful happen yesterday?" He hums, raising a brow. "I called Alexander then, but I also heard you. You took my prince!" He scoffs, again, in a playful manner. Clary's laugh in response isn't whole-hearted and genuine this time.

"Uh, well, me and Alec watched my best friend, Simon, play some original songs, then we went back to Alec's place with another friend."

"Continue?"

"Ah, well, we played games and watched movies, that was cool."

Magnus squints. "Anything more? I feel like you're hiding something from me."

Clary's lips quiver, trying to fight back her want to tell Magnus everything. She stares deep into his eyes, making it all the more difficult to keep her mouth shut.

"Alec's broken!" She spits unintentionally.

"What? Broken? How?" Magnus rests his hands on either of Clary's shoulders.

"I— . . . I'm not dropping names, but . . . He's liked the friend we brought over for a _very_ long time, and he was turned down. I . . . stayed with him all night until he finally fell asleep with tears dried on his face. It was so painful to see him hurt . . . " She explains, guilt rushing over her.

Magnus's hold on her weakens. "Oh . . . "

"And worst of all, Magnus, that friend was a guy. And now I don't think he'll see Alec as the same person he once knew ever again."

Magnus stares, blank and hurt, too. He . . . He's hurting for Alec. _Well, at least he's into guys_. He knows this is absolutely the worst time to think of something like this, but it's the tiniest bit comforting that he'll have a chance with him in time.

"I want to see him." He says gently, releasing Clary completely. "I want to see him this afternoon."

"Magnus, I think he needs some space for now." Clary protests. "Heartbreak isn't easy to recover from."

Magnus's face scrunches when he was told otherwise, but nodded anyway. "You're right. I'll leave him be.

"But at least give me his address."

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

"Knock, knock!" Magnus calls out for Alec behind his apartment door. He knows Clary told him to stay away twelve hours ago, but he couldn't help himself. He was grateful he got Alec's address from her.

Shuffling is heard from inside until the door suddenly opens up bit by bit. Alec stands in front of the super star, looking dirty and tired. His clothes are wrinkled and his eye bags are heavy. "Oh, goodness, Alexander . . . " Magnus murmurs. Alec shifts uncomfortably, not even surprised or ecstatic New York's icon is right _here_. "Come in." The college student's voice is raspy, and though it makes Magnus cringe to hear such a tone, he steps inside and closes the door since Alec didn't bother to.

He watches Alec drop dead on his couch and roll into the blanket laid out on the cushions, breathing in the scent of his home. It smells just like him.

It's silent for a while, until:

"Clary told me what happened."

Alec doesn't turn to look at him, but he shifts his body to let him know he's listening.

"She didn't give me a name of the friend but . .  .  She told me how hurt you are, and now that I'm here, I see that for myself. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It's . . . Not just that." Alec admits, turning to lay on his back. _He looks so apathetic_. "My parents came over a few hours ago to talk about me and Iz, and I . . . Confessed I was gay."

"Oh, you're—"

"Yeah." Alec sits up to rub his eyes. "My dad didn't look at me at all after we continued on with the conversation. My mom still calls me son but she won't touch me . . . I feel awkward and sick. I hate myself for being such a faggot."

"Hey!" Magnus snaps, approaching him in a march. "Don't call yourself that!" He gets close, resting his hand on the other's shoulder. "You are not a faggot. You never were. If your family doesn't accept you for who you are, then so be it."

"My family doesn't work that way!" He pushes Magnus's hand off of him. "If my parents can't look at me and see their baby boy at the same time, they're practically telling me I'm a failed abortion! Yeah, just like that!

"They already had those suspicious eyes on me when I said I didn't want to be a Catholic, and now my homosexuality was what cut their line of tolerance. I'm gone. Game over. I'm no longer a Lightwood in their eyes."

Magnus gapes in pure shock from the words Alec used to describe himself. _Failed abortion, faggot_ . . .  

"I should've waited." Alec sniffles. "I should've waited to confess my feelings and I should've waited to come out. I'm such a disappointment . . . "

Magnus can't believe what he's seeing. An adorable, soft-hearted man breaking down as his world cracks into chunks that no longer fit with each other. He's irreparable. This reminds the super star of when he came out to his step-father. At that time, when his mother was still alive, she wasn't even there to hear him out, so he needed all his support from his father. Which . . . He never got.

His attention goes back to Alec, who is weeping his soul out his eyes. Has he . . . Been doing that the whole time Magnus was zoning out?

Shit.

He panics, having no thought on what to do before he drops in front of the other and hugs him tight.

The response he got was only more sobbing, but he didn't shush him. He just needs to let it all out.

He can feel large hands gripping and ripping away at his blazer, but he doesn't mind. Stress can make your hands do all kinds of things. Best to let them jitter.

"You're okay, you're okay . . . " he rocks both himself and Alec back and forth. "Let it out."

 

( _& & & & & &_ )

 

_"Alec, sweetie! It's so good to see you again!" Maryse shouts excitedly when she sees her boy, grown and living on his own. "You're so handsome!" She gasps, eyeing the stubble on her son's face._

_"Thank you, ma. You look stunning yourself." Alec says in return, getting pulled into a tight hug. He pulls back after a while to let his parents in, only nodding to his father who tagged along behind his mother. He closes the door when they're in, letting them take a seat on the couch._

_"So, how are you? How's college?" Maryse beams, hands on her knees as she scoots up to the edge of her seat. "Pretty good, actually." Alec lies. "It's a little rough, but I'm holding on."_

Did I mention I'm failing?

_"Ah, that's so good to hear!" Maryse nods. "We checked up on Isabelle already, and she is doing just as wonderful! And you know what?" She motions for Alec to move closer, like someone else will hear but her, dad, and him. When he's close, the student asks, "What?"_

_"Meliorn, her long term boyfriend, asked for our blessing to propose to her! And we said yes! I can't wait to see Isabelle's reaction when he does!"_

_"Oh, damn!" Alec is surprised, but happy for his sister. "That's awesome! When is he going to pop the question?"_

_"He said in May. The prettiest month of all." Maryse sighs lovingly._

_"We're so happy for her." Alec's dad smiles._

_"Me, too." Alec smiles the same way, only his lips are sucked into his mouth._

_"What about you?" Maryse asks curiously. "Do you have a lady we don't know about?"_

Oh no.

Uh, do I confess or finger gun it?

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

. . .

Fuck it.

_"Uh, no, actually." Alec confesses in a squeaky voice. "There's . . . A reason for that._

_"Hear me out. Please."_

_Maryse's enthusiasm drops solemn in a heart beat. "You can tell us, baby. What is it?"_

_"Okay, hold on tight."_

_Alec's parents stare at him, waiting for him to speak._

_"I'm, uh, gay. I . . . Have been since I was in fifth grade. That's why I, uhm, don't have a lady friend."_

_Both his parents' eyes widen in disbelief, and they're clearly both repulsed. "Son, I_ _—" Maryse begins, but chokes on her words. Robert, Alec's father, stands. And slaps him._

_Hard._

_Nothing but shock invades his mind and thoughts and body and senses, but slowly, he can feel the sting on his cheek bubbling and boiling like scolding hot water. He catches his breath, but holds it back when he stares back at his parents._

_"Robert!" Maryse yells. "How dare you?!"_

_"That animal is not our son. He will never be our son again."_

_"Well, he's my son, Robert!"_

_"I didn't raise a mutt, Maryse! We're leaving." He grabs Maryse's wrist and pulls her out of the apartment room forcefully, slamming the apartment door shut so hard it seemed like it broke._

_Alec puts a hand to his face, feeling the sting and wincing with his own touches._

_From a few steps away, Alec hears Robert shout, "He is not a Lightwood. He is a mentally challenged animal!"_

 

( _ & & & & & & _)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: matt-daddrio


	5. chapter 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE SO MUCH INSPIRATION FOR THIS CHAPTER I AM SO READY  
> !! CHAPTER IS VERY ANGSTY AND FLUFFY !!

Magnus slowly pulls back from the other, letting him calm down through hiccups and a runny nose. He watches Alec pinch his nasal bridge in frustration, hearing him push through his teeth sourly, "I took it like it was something to shrug off." His jaw is clenched tightly, and it's obvious he's gritting his pearly whites. His hands shake from the second wave of tears he has to let out, but he holds it, letting only a few tears seep from in between his eyelids. He's so angry. So broken.

For that moment Magnus has nothing to say. There _is_ nothing to say. It's weird to watch someone burst out like this, even with such attentiveness, but there was nothing else he could be doing right now. Offering to make tea isn't a way to go; he's not even sure if Alec _likes_ tea. And he's already physically tried to comfort him in the most platonic, and not-over-the-top move he could've done. Does he, I don't know, make a pun and knee slap? What can a 35-year-old man do for a young man _just now_ experiencing oppression of sexual preference?

"I should . . . Get going." Magnus coughs as Alec rubs his eyes and digs into his bottom lip with animalistic bites as an attempt to let out all the emotions stirring in his head. He stands from his kneel and wipes his knees. "I'm sorry I'm not much of a help; I really am. This isn't a really nice way to do anything at all, but I believe you just need that alone time, yeah?" He rambles, ignoring the itch at the back of his neck.

Alec's face is flushed pink and his eyes are puffed to the max. He looks so out of it. "Right, right. You got superstar duties to tend to." He huffs a flat laugh out rather forcefully, eyes still focused on his legs, which were loosely hugged by some pajama pants. It's like he's trying to get every last drop of emotion out of him.

"Mhm, yeah." Another cough from the older male. "I'll make it up to you. I swear."

"Don't push yourself. Just by you arriving relaxed me a bit. Like, wow, a superstar cares about a speck like me." Alec shakes his head, looking up to Magnus. "Thanks."

Magnus's breath is caught in his throat. Even with a red face, Alec is still sweet and cute. What a good person. "Uhm, right. I'm keeping my promise still." He flashes a brief smile before sucking his lips into his mouth and turns around, stepping over to the door into the stiffest march that could possibly ever exist. Ever.

He opens the door and locks it before he goes out since clearly, Alec doesn't have any strength to even move a body part. He shuts the door and tests the doorknob with a little jerk to see if it's locked — just in case — before he walks all the way down the multiple staircases. This is _hell_ for his legs.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"How awkward could you get, Jesus." Sierra rolls her eyes, setting Magnus's dinner in front of him in the dining room.

"I don't know, okay!" He wheezes out, cracking his knuckles for the millionth time out of embarrassment and regret. "I just— I _tried_!" He had just finished explaining why he missed curfew, and now this is happening.

"You're an idiot." Sierra sits down beside him, holding her head in her hand, the other arm rested on her thighs.

"I know, alright? I'm just not good at this kind of stuff."

Sierra snorts. Loudly. "Are you kidding?" She goes, "you are the most helpful person out there in the world. _And_ you're a superstar!" She punches his bicep lightly. "People really admire you. _Really_ admire you. I've heard you talking on the phone countless times before and you're always saying, _"it was my pleasure"_ , or _"I'm always glad to help"_ , or a simple _"you're welcome"_. And you think you have the _rights_ to vaguely say you aren't helpful."

"Those are thank you's from work and friends that I've filled in for. I'm all on board for emotional support, I'll do it as a fulltime job if I could, but I really am _not_ the best at persuasion."

"You've convinced me that all my work is the best than any other's." Sierra's voice turns firm. "You reassured me again and again that even the tiniest I've done for you is enough to make you beam brighter than the sun and cherish it. Do you know how much that affected my emotional state? Because if you don't, it really boosted up my self-esteem and taught me how to embrace that whatever I give to anyone is enough for them to appreciate. _You_ are the best person in the world."

Magnus is speechless. He tries to speak, but all of a sudden, his voice is lost while his brain takes in all of his mutual's words. He's done that to her? Made her brighter? Oh, wow. He swallows his saliva awkwardly, yet his throat remains scratchy and dry. "I, um . . . Didn't know." He struggles to say.

"Well, now you do. Honestly, Magnus. You're perfect." Sierra gets up from her seat and wipes off her skirt before turning and walking off to find the mop and bucket to clean the floors.

Even when she's out of sight, Magnus stares at the entrance where she walked out of, still trying to let all of that sink in.

_You're perfect._

He bites his lip and shakes his head, looking to his side. His plate of food. Right. He looks over to the hall one last time before going into his meal and slowly eating away.

Nice. Still warm.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Alec, open up!" Isabelle yells at the door of her big brother's apartment, fist banging against the wooden surface. "You haven't been in your classes lately, and I haven't seen you around in the halls in the university. What's up with you?"

It's been almost two weeks with Alec going radio silent so suddenly. It isn't like him to be this way. Never has he ever skipped a class from Izzy's knowledge. He was always a nerd that loved to learn and do projects. What's with the silence?

Izzy stops pounding her fist on the door when she hears a _click_. Her arm drops down to her side, only to have her hand on her hip in a sassy and irritated manner. She wants answers.

Alec opens the door with a slow, unsatisfying creak. Once he's able to be seen in his entirety, he . . .

Doesn't even look bad. Which was what Izzy was anticipating.

He looks good, smells good, apartment is neat and tidy.

So why does it feel off?

"Hey, Iz." He greets with a welcoming smile, snapping the female out of her suspicion. "Hey." She nods her head, letting herself inside. Alec doesn't complain, closing the door and locking it while she's roaming around his living room.

He walks up to her, stopping at a three feet distance. "How've you been?" He tilts his head.

"I should be asking you that question." Izzy turns, eyes squinted. She's like a homicide investigator, analyzing anything and everything for a sign of anything that could be important information. "Why've you been skipping classes?" She crosses her arms.

"Oh." Alec blinks. Iz watches him turn his head to the left in shame. "I, uh, had other things to deal with. And . . . I don't the have motivation to go."

"Wimpy excuse." Izzy scoffs. "Having motivation or not, you are always in school. I know there's something going on. What's happening?"

"Nothing, _mom_." Alec rolls his eyes, walking over to his couch and plopping down in a seat.

Izzy sighs heavily. She does the same as Alec, sitting down beside him. She places her hand on his knee, thumb gently caressing the fabric covering his legs. "I will ask this one more time." She says quietly. "Did something happen?"

Alec's crossed arms become tighter in their tangle, eyes squinting as a corner of his mouth drops into a frown. Pressure has been something that always tore Alec apart until the truth revealed itself. He didn't like it. Isabelle's stare that could leave you with third-degree burns didn't help.

"Mom and dad and Jace know. Clary does, too. So does Magnus." Alec's words are suddenly scratchy and hesitant. It's suffocating.

Izzy knows what he means, and her demeanor is no longer demanding and sharp. She's soft and sympathetic.

"I'm so stupid. I was too quick with my confessions. Like, I can't just go around to the people who thought they knew me and go, "I'm gay!" and expect to still have their trust. They all saw me as a decent, hard-working, _normal_ human being. My sexual preference changes everything." Alec fights the steamy tears building up in his eyes.

"Do you know how stupid I feel? To mom and dad, I casually said I like guys like it was no big deal. Like they were supportive and weren't strict with their religion. If I had a chance to redo that moment, I would've delivered the message maturely. Or better yet, keep my mouth shut the entire time. God."

"Alec, I—" Izzy starts.

Alec cuts her off. "I guess the shock with Jace's response to my feelings made me believe that I just shouldn't give a fuck anymore. That I should let out everything." He wipes his eyes and sniffles, clearing his throat. "That's why I'm bailing all my classes." He says with finality.

"I just wanted to think over everything I've done."

Izzy's heart breaks to see Alec like this. Sure, it wasn't a good move to just casually come out like that, but with reactions so hurtful that it makes the always-on-task buddy boy disappear from Earth in a heartbeat is _not_ okay.

Alec does not break down as she stares at him, he just focuses on nothing, jaw tight to keep the tears from flooding. Izzy just removes her hand from his knee and places it on his arm, laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm always going to be here for you big brother. I hope you know that." Her words are set flying and swirling in the air. "I love and support you."

It takes a moment before she can hear hiccuping and sniffling beside her.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Isabelle reads through her textbook on human anatomy, studying the body and all its parts, including their roles. She sits in a library chair all by her lonesome, hair tied up in a ponytail with glasses resting on her nose. She sips from her water bottle briefly to quench her thirst before going back to studying and looking over her notes to make sure she got the right things down. The table beside her has a group of friends, all boys. Only four of them.

At first, she pays no attention to them, but then she hears the name _Alec_ being thrown in their conversation, and all of a sudden she's a spy.

"Alec's been gone for quite some time, yeah?" One of the boys whisper horribly.

The second man, just as bad at whispering, says, "Yeah. But why should we care? It's best that he's gone so we won't have to see him raise his hand every now and then to get notes he missed."

"Don't get me started on him." The third one goes. "I've known him since high school. That sissy was seen hanging with another boy those times ago. Rumor has it that he's gay."

The fourth didn't have anything to shit talk about, so they all started to snort and giggle without his commentary.

Isabelle looks up from her book. She's heard enough.

She looks over to her water bottle and then to the group of boys. She picks up the said bottle and stands, twisting the top of the beverage off and throwing it carelessly back on the table she was working at.

The female walks over and stands behind the first man, tipping the water ever so slowly over his head, ready to pour.

"Bro, watch out!" One of the other guys say before the dude she was behind gets drenched in ice cold water. She tunes out his girly squealing before splashing the remaining water in another boy's face, getting the same response as the first.

She drops the bottle and pops the other two men in the mouth and back of their heads as hard as she could, clearly not caring if anyone else saw. "Talk about Alec like that again and I swear to God you will get hurt much worse." She seethes.

All the men are too stunned to bark back insults, so Izzy just walks back to her table and collects all her notes and the book she was reading. She stuffs the papers into her bag and holds the book in her arms as she walks off this floor and down to the first to leave.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Another week passes by.

It's been, what, a month since Alec's confessions to everyone he thought would stay by him? Yeah.

He's back in school now, which is good, but there's never a second that goes by with him thinking of what he's done. He still feels so empty after it all.

Right now he's reviewing his notes that are important for a quiz coming up this Friday while watching some television. Of course, he's off task most of the time, he can't even remember what he just read, but he's trying to ignore the noise.

Why doesn't he just turn off the T.V.? Well . . . He doesn't want to be left with the silence and his negative thoughts for now.

_Knock, knock._

Alec looks away from the T.V. screen. Why is everyone visiting him all of a sudden? He never got this much attention from his own girlfriend back in middle school.

Not that he cared, but—

_Knock, knock._

Alec grunts and lazily gets up from his couch, walking over to the door like he doesn't have control over his legs.

He opens the door carelessly. "I don't feel like giving answers right now Iz—"

He cuts himself off. Panic rushes through him, body tensing incredibly fast. "Oh, mom, I didn't—"

"Oh, Alec," Maryse huffs out with relief, falling onto her son and squeezing him in an embrace.

The college student freezes up. This feeling is something he hasn't experienced for a while. It makes him uncomfortable.

"Alec!" A little boy's voice says happily. Max, Alec and Izzy's little brother. He too hugs the older male, content.

More things Alec didn't expect.

"Uh. Hi, guys." He says awkwardly.

Maryse squeezes him a final time before letting go. Her hands retract to hold onto Alec's biceps instead, grip light but as sturdy as metal bars. "I've been meaning to talk to you for such a long time! This is probably my only chance before an even longer separation. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner."

Max releases Alec too and cheerily runs into his older brother's apartment, and Maryse does the same.

It's weird to have his mother back here after what happened, but Alec doesn't send them out. He closes and locks the door before going up to her. "What do you mean this is your only chance?" He asks, an eyebrow raising.

Maryse stares at him for a moment, then looks to the side. "Robert has been forcing me to stay away from you. He's made empty threats that if I visited you, he would put his hands on me. But he didn't." The older woman sighs.

Alec turns suspicious, but nods anyway. "Why are you here?" He asks, not meaning to come off as hostile.

"To reason with you." Maryse takes a seat beside the couch, motioning Alec to sit by her. He does, leaning forward to get closer.

"Honey, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what Robert did to you. For what I did to you." The female begins after some time of thinking. "I'm still disappointed, but you're my son. And though Robert doesn't want to admit it, you're his son, too. A mother and father have no right to knock their child right out of their senses for being who they are.

"I'm so sorry, baby." She peeps out, tearing up from Alec's reaction. She sees his shock, how it seems like he's never received support in his life. It kills her.

Alec clears his throat. "It's okay." He looks away from her, eyes focusing on the T.V., screen left on.

"Goodness," she sniffles after a while, "please excuse me, I need to use the restroom. Where is it?" She asks, dabbing the tears from her eyes gently.

"Down that hall, first door to the left." Alec points behind her. "Thank you," she bobs her head, getting up and going the way she was told to.

When she disappeared, Max sat down next Alec with a blank face. "She's lying." He says softly, looking up to his older brother.

"What do you mean?" Alex locks eyes with him.

"What she said about dad making empty threats." He looks at Alec's notes on the table in front of him. "They were far from empty. She's bruised. She hides it with makeup."

Alec blinks. _Excuse me?_  he thinks. "How dare that son of a— . . . " He catches himself.

"Bitch? I know. I want to defend mom, but I'm not big enough."

"Language." Alec mutters, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, trying to process all this information. No man will touch his mother and toss her like a ragdoll just because she cares for her _child_. He thinks more into it, frustration making him irritated, boiling, within a matter of seconds.

 _Lowlife scum, abuser, cunt_ , he thinks of his father with distaste, his mouth remembering the taste of something foul from the thought of his face. He leans back into the couch and sucks his teeth, eyebrows knitted together. _Ugh_.

Alec spots Maryse coming in from the hallway she disappeared from a moment ago. "Back." She smiles almost warily. Is she afraid to _smile?_ The college student shakes off the matter and smiles back a bit more brightly to show her it's okay. "Hey."

He watches his mother take her seat again, holding onto a napkin covered all around in smudged makeup and maybe even tears. Alec glances to Max, and the younger boy exchanges the look. His eyes read, _'don't tell her I told you. Don't tell her I know.'_

Alec ignores his command, but keeps his mouth shut anyway. This is a topic to discuss with the whole family, excluding Robert. He'll talk to Iz after this, tell her what's going on. The rest will play off from there.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"I'll see you soon, mom." Alec smiles whole-heartedly to Maryse as he walks her and Max to his door. The woman turns. "Of course, darling. I can't wait until next time." She goes, smile just as warm. She raises a hand to caress Alec's cheek affectionately, giving all her love left to her boy. "I love you." She breathes out. "I always will."

Alec has a tingling in his stomach and an ache in his heart. A good ache.

. . . What is it called again? He doesn't know.

All of a sudden, he's pulled into a hug. A more gentle embrace than earlier, and this time, he hugs back. "I love you, too." He sighs contently.

Maryse pulls back, tears welling in her eyes once again. "Until next time, baby." She shines a toothy smile, releasing her son and turning back around. She unlocks the door and opens it, walking out with Max behind her. She waves a final goodbye to Alec and sways off, the college student watching her get farther and farther until she's not there anymore.

When he closes the door and locks it back up is the moment he realizes what the wheezes in his organs mean. He can name what he felt.

It's being comfortable. Being comfortable with himself because he knows he has the support of a parent that he's needed desperately for the past month. Of course, there is so, so, _soooo_ much more things he needs to accept about himself, but baby steps are always better than standing there and doing nothing.

It feels good to breathe. Even if it's just this _one_ minute.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Isabelle stuffs some take-out Chinese noodles into her mouth while she stares at her television screen. Her long-term boyfriend Meliorn sits beside her, watching with her. Believe it or not, Izzy managed to get Meliorn into Mean Girls and Grey's Anatomy and here they are now. Watching either one of the two.

 _Vrr, vrr_ , Izzy's phone vibrates on her other side. She swallows her noodles and places the box down in the empty space in her crossed legs before picking her cellular device up and turning it on. It's a text from Alec, or, as his contact name says, _Alec the dummy_. Under the name, it shows the first line of his message. Because it _is_ just one line. It says, _'we need to talk. it's about mom.'_

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Magnus sits in his chair in the studio for his upcoming movie, quiet and tired looking. He has his head rested on his fist, looking bored.

He's in the clothes fitting for his role, but it's not his turn to play his part yet. So with this opportunity, his brain thinks it's the best time to think of his stupid and awkward self back at Alec's place. How squeaky he acted, how tight his words were. Yikes, he did not feel good.

He still has to make up to Alec, too. He hasn't seen him in forever, it seems. Work really is a pain in the ass.

A few minutes pass, and Magnus can't take the negativity any longer. He pulls out his phone from his jeans pocket and turns on his phone, immediately going to his IM and scrolling to find Alec's contact. They haven't said anything to each other through text yet, so might as well break that.

 _'Hello, Alexander,'_ he types hurriedly, _'I still feel like a fool to leave you by yourself those weeks ago when you needed the most comfort. For that, I am terribly sorry, and I have yet to make it up to you. How 'bout it? I'll surprise you and take you out. Everything will be on me.'_ Send.

He looks up briefly before he feels his phone shake in his palms. He looks back down to see Alec's response no more than a second later. _'you're forgiven. trust me, i needed the alone time. and yes, i'll go with you.'_

_'Great. When can I pick you up?'_

_'Eight?'_

_'Sounds like a date.'_

"Bane!" The director calls for Magnus. "You're in this shot. Take a look at the script and get on with it, please!"

Magnus quickly stuffs his phone into his pocket, jumping off his seat. Under his breath, he mutters, "The name's Magnus."

 

( & & & & & & )

 

It's forty-five minutes until eight o'clock at noon right now, and Alec is preparing for his 'friendly' and ' _totally_ platonic' outing with Magnus.

He isn't wearing anything _too_ special. Just something formal _enough_.

He's already showered, brushed his teeth, flossed, face-washed, etcetera. He got ready a teeny bit too early. But no matter, he can get Magnus to pick him up earlier.

And that's what he does.

He grabs his phone off his dresser and turns it on, going to his contacts and swiping through for _'superstar ⭐'_. He eventually finds him and taps the call button, bringing his device to his ear and waiting for the other to pick up. Magnus doesn't answer the first time, so Alec waits a few minutes before calling again, just so he wouldn't come off as too persistent.

The third try, Magnus picks up. "Hello, Alexander darling." He hums fondly through the phone.

Alec smiles cutely at that, heart already beating quickly. "Hey. I was just wondering if you could pick me up sooner? Only if you're ready, of course. I wouldn't want to rush you or anyth—"

"I've _been_ ready, pretty boy." Magnus chuckles. "I'll pick you up right now if you are, too."

"Ah, yes, yes. That'd be perfect. Thank you." Alec's cheeks burn velvet red.

"Mhm. See you then." Magnus hangs up.

The college student can't help but wheeze, hand pressing on his dresser surface while he tries to calm himself.

The boy's found someone new to stay with. It's back to square one of lovin'.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

A few minutes later, Alec gets a text from Magnus informing that he is here and waiting outside in the parking lot of his apartment complex. When he got that text, however, he was slacking off and laying on his couch, no shoes on and his coat, well— somewhere around here. He immediately jumps up from the comfortable cushions and rushes to his doormat, plopping down right on his ass to slip on his dress shoes. When that was dealt with, he scrambles back up and searches in his kitchen, living room, even bathroom, for his light coat. He barges into his room and that is where he finally finds the jacket. He leaps over to it and tugs it off his dresser, pulling it on roughly while at the same time skipping to his door and unlocking it. Once the door is pulled open, he jerks the room key out of the lock and steps outside. Finally looking good, he huffs breathlessly over and over again while he locks his door back up. Gulping, he turns toward the spiraling staircases and speeds down them, quicker than the Flash.

But he didn't realize he left his phone on his coffee table.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

Magnus waits in his limousine, arms crossed and legs propped up on one of the car chairs in front of him. His chauffeur sits in the driving seat, his two bodyguards sitting their beefy selves in the second row. Occasionally, he looks out the tinted window in front of him, having no luck in seeing Alec barge through his complex's doors. But the one time he doesn't look up, he turns his head to see his bodyguards open their car doors and step out the vehicle and let someone in. Alexander.

Magnus had described Alec's facial features a little earlier to his guards so they could let the right person in instead of just guessing and guessing what he looked like and who he was. Alec slips into the long car with amazement sparkling in his brown irises, completely in awe. "Alexander, darling! Hello!" The superstar beams, the college student turning his head to show more of the dazzle in his eyes. "Hi." He nearly wheezes out, still having to process how lucky he is to be in here right now. "Come, come, take a seat beside me." Magnus puts his legs down and uncrosses his arms, patting the spot next to him. The other pushes himself to the very back and plops himself down in the seat he was told to sit in. "You look—" Alec voice cracks, " _very_ nice." He's horrible at this stuff leave him alone—

The star spits a little laugh at the compliment, wiping his mouth and nodding in appreciation. "Thank you, not so bad-looking yourself." He winks after he tidies back up.

"Ah, pssh, thanks." Alec stammers, turning away briefly to feel his burning cheeks.

"Of course." Magnus's eyes fill with interest.

"So," the other coughs, turning back around, "where are we headed?"

"My home, if that is okay. I mean, this is kinda like a _meet my parents_ situation, except— y'know, you're 'meeting' my place. Since I've already seen yours."

"Heh." Alec chuckles. "It's totally okay. I bet your house is a first-class restaurant anyway."

 

( & & & & & & )

 

During the ride to Magnus's place, Alec and him discussed more about themselves. Magnus asked how he felt after the incident with his parents and his previous crush, Jace, and he asked how his career was going. Both replied with a simple, _"it's going good,"_ and they left it at that.

"Last question," Alec points. "Why'd you get your fancy ass limo, guards, and chauffeur here if we're just riding on back to your place?"

"Oh, you know first dates, you want to really  _wow_ the other, not so?" Magnus answers with a slightly smug tone, leaning into his seat and crossing one of his legs over the other.

Alec feels a soft burn at the tip of his ears from that reply. _Is this really a date?_

Oh golly gee hecking hecker.

He looks straightforward at the chair head in front of him, licking his chapped lips with nervousness. He's clearly flustered.

Oh, boy.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

They arrive at Magnus's house, and Alec can't be any more amazed at the scene. His house is humongous!

"This is it, my humble abode." Magnus inhales proudly, unbuckling his seatbelt when the limo is parked in his pretty-fucking-fancy front porch.

His two guards get out first, the one closest to the porch being the one to help both Alec and Magnus out the vehicle. 

When they're out, Alec is just frozen in place, eyes attached so firmly on the beauty of this mansion. So, so pretty.

"Come on, Lightwood," Magnus wraps his arm around the other's, snapping him out of his daze. "Let me walk you inside."

Alec gulps, walking with Magnus as calmy as he could to his front double doors. _This is a castle_ , he thinks.

The star's guards jog up to them, the one that escorted them out of the limousine unlocking and opening the door to let them step inside without any trouble. And with that, the two men gracefully walk inside. Everything is just _gorgeous_.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Sierra!" Magnus calls for his friend. "I have a guest over, darling!"

Alec looks at him with a quizzical stare. "Ooh!" A feminine voice echoes from up the spiral stairs, making the younger male look to where the voice came from. Behind gold-painted rails and a beautiful glass chandelier, he spots a small female in a maid's outfit. One of Magnus's helpers? "Is it that Lightwood beauty boy you keep talking about?" She hollers while she slides down the railings, a grin on her face.

"Yes, yes it is!" Magnus returns the same cheeky grin, slipping his arm away from Alec's to present him.

When the Sierra girl lands on the beautifully polished quartz floor, she skips over to Alec, eyeing him like he's a work of art. Which he is, but it's sorta creepy to be stared at with wide eyes, ya feel me?

When she's done awing at him, Sierra looks to Magnus with a smirk. "You certainly have quite the lucky fish, don't you? Where do you catch them, honestly?" She chuckles.

"Just from letting the ocean waves push me along." He retorts with a sassy and playful hair flip.

"Dork." Sierra rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to Alec. "Well, Alec, I'll guide you to Magnus's dining room. It's right down the hall behind me. So, let's go!"

She swirls around, all bubbly and excited as she skips down the hall, Alec and Magnus walking behind her while sharing quiet chuckles with each other.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

When they make it to the dining room, again Alec is swept off his feet from how stunning everything is. Every little detail he notices is claimed as absolutely, undoubtedly, utterly astonishing by him.

"I'll prepare your food in the kitchen." Sierra slides into another room.

The thing Alec loves most about this place so far is how much effort was put into the decoration of the table. From the royal blue and white tablecloth to the tri-candle stand in the middle with a wine bottle beside it, everything seemed so perfect that a robot must've placed everything. Magnus is already at a chair, having pulled it out like a gentleman. But he didn't take the seat. "Alexander, here, come sit." He gestures the other over, and Alec does as he's told. He sits on the surprisingly soft cushion of the chair, relaxing immediately. "Thank you," he smiles, looking up to Magnus. The celebrity nods, the same smile forming. The curve on his lips stays put even when he walks all the way over to his chair, across from Alec.

"I hope this isn't too much," Magnus laughs mostly to himself. "No, no!" Alec responds quickly. "Actually, this is . . . This is the best, uh— uh, friendly get-together I've been a part of."

He can see Magnus's expression dull a bit when he said this was just a friendly get-together, and suddenly he feels horrible. Did he . . . actually see this as a date? He . . . is taking this seriously, isn't he?

 _Shit_.

"Uh— thank you for taking me on this _date_." He fixes his sentence with an awkward cough. He never took Magnus's subtle movements to heart. Don't get me wrong, he likes him a lot, but so soon after Jace and his parents? And about his homosexuality as well? He still needs to embrace that and tell himself that he is, indeed, into men. He needs to ease into the reality that he cannot change himself, no matter how much he tries or did try. But now that he realizes that Magnus is taking _his_ steps seriously, it feels as if his wants and needs of space don't matter. He just wants to see the other beaming that glorious smile. And when he corrected himself, Magnus _did_  smile. Good.

"What do you think of my humble home so far, Alec dear?" Magnus looks up from his silverware, that familiar kind smile still presented on his smooth, pinkish lips.

"Oh, well, everything is absolutely lovely, if I have to say." Alec zooms off with his whole sea of compliments and admiration. "Compare this to my little apartment in a competition for best houses and mine would _never_ stand a chance."

"Oh, _pfff_ ," Magnus waves him off. "Your apartment has a much more homey feel. It's more comfortable and full than such a spacious mansion with very little things in each of the rooms. If I was willing to, I'd give up my career and live like any normal millennial; down to earth and have a comfortable, singular, homey spot."

"Oh." Is all Alec can say. "That's . . . actually pretty cool. Never heard any other celebrity say that before. When I interviewed them, at least." He huffs a brief smile, then it falls. "Y'know, my pal Simon, he— he's a musician, a famous one just down here in Brooklyn, most known at Hunter's Moon, our local bar. He receives more and more attention each day because of his live performances and songs uploaded on YouTube, but he swore to me and our group of friends that he would never, _never_  take the chance of being in the spotlight if it meant he lost time for his buddies. Heh," He looks down to the tablecloth. "He's a good man."

Now this time Magnus is the one in awe. He aspires to be that Simon person, he realizes. He doesn't comment on that; he just thinks about it. Wow, that's a really good person. To be so dedicated to your life out of the spotlight is so inspiring. You never wanna let that other side of you go.

"What about you?" Alec lifts his head back up, his gaze stretching the distance between him and Magnus just to see his reaction. "Did you . . . make a promise not to leave your old life behind if the popularity tried to consume you? Or . . . did you let it?"

Of course, Magnus's reaction was, as anticipated, surprise from that question, but he tries to hide it with a wipe of his mouth. "Uh, well," He looks to the side. "Yeah. I, uh, was able to keep some part of my past life with me— like, the memories and such, but . . . Most of what my previous lifestyle was, I've left behind. And I know this sounds bad, what I'm about to say, but . . . I'd rather keep it that way."

Alec can't help but blink. What does he say to that? Shit, maybe he asked too deep of a question.

"Yo, got your food you two." Sierra places down a big plate of fried chicken sprinkled with pepper and little leaves underneath for decoration. Alec gets distracted from the watering in his mouth. "You can dig in, guys."

When the female leaves, Alec gets up and walks over to the plate, picking up the knife and fork that came with it, beginning to cut slices of the meat steadily and cleanly. Magnus gets up as well, standing beside him with his own plate in hand. "Hm, nice cutting skills." He points out.

"Oh, thank you." Alec flashes a short smile. "Me and my sister, Izzy, used to cook for our parents, especially for our mother when she was sick. She adored our stew. I used to cut the potatos and carrots and Iz would make the soup." He laughs at the cute memory. "Sweet." Magnus titters.

"Here," Alec lifts a slice of chicken in between the serving fork and knife, laying it down on one side of Magnus's plate. And then another, just in case he wanted more. With a thank you, Magnus puts down his plate and gets Alec's for him, holding it up so he could place his own amount of slices on his plate. Alec puts down the utensils beside the body of the chicken that remains when he's done, slowly taking his dish from Magnus's hand. Their fingertips graze each other ever so slightly, but both feel the shock in their touch. They stare at each other raptly. "Thanks." Alec bobs his head, walking back over to his side of the table and taking his seat once again. Magnus does the same.

"Oh, I forgot to ask," Magnus starts as Alec stuffs a bite of chicken into his mouth, savoring the taste of the spice and the juices of the perfectly cooked meat. "Mmm?" He mumbles in response. "What do you want to do after this?"

Alec chews and swallows. "I don't know. We'll think of something when we finish devouring this bird." He huffs a chuckle. Magnus has the same reaction to that exaggeration, nodding his head. He stands and reaches over for the bottle of wine. He pops the top off and pours some into his wine glass with elegance. "Care for a drink, Mr. Lightwood?" He hums, holding the bottle out to him.

"Oh, sure." Alec takes the bottle from him and pours his own cup, putting it down where it previously was when he was satisfied with the quantity in his glass.

"Thanks for taking my offer on this date, by the way." Magnus mentions after he swallows his own piece of chicken.

"Yeah, of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Magnus smiles, downing the meat with his wine.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

The men have finished their food a while ago now, having put their dishes away so it can be washed later. Sierra left for home half an hour ago, and now Magnus and Alec are sitting on the couch in the middle, rewatching _Spiderman: Homecoming_.

"Who do you think is a better Spiderman? Tobey Maguire or Tom Holland?" Alec asks, eyes locked on the part where Tony talks through a Bluetooth to Peter when he was saved from that lake.

"I'm all for original actors and actresses, but Tom Holland is better in my opinion. He's still the number one Spiderman actor to this day, too, so I mean," Magnus shrugs. "You?"

"Me too. Tom Holland's cuter, might I add." The other says playfully, snorting.

"Pssh, oh shut up." The celebrity lightly punches his arm, giggling at the joke nonetheless.

A few more minutes into the movie and Magnus stands. "I'm gonna make a cocktail. Want one?" He looks down to the other.

"Sure, I don't mind. Thank you." Alec nods.

"Two cocktails, coming right up." Magnus pats the college student's shoulder before going off to the kitchen behind this room.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

"Here." Magnus returns with two cups filled to the brim with alcohol, handing one down carefully to Alec.

"Thanks." Alec takes it, grip tight on the stem of the glass. "I like to flavor the bitter taste of my drinks with a drop of lemon. It tastes good, trust me." Magnus tells him.

"I do." Alec sips the drink, nose immediately wrinkling with the dominating taste of bitterness attacking his taste buds. But somewhere in all that tarty tasting liquid, he can also taste the _slightest_ drop of lemon juice. " _Mmm_." He tries to fake his liking to the beverage, trying to down the burn of the drink at the same time.

"Not a drinker, huh?" Magnus takes his seat back, right next to Alec.

"Nope." He wheezes out.

"Heh." The older man shakes his head. "You get used to it after a while."

"I wanna believe that." Alec lets out. "One time me and my group of friends went to a bar and the dudes in the group got me to take shots with them. Only took one shot and I knew that I would get sick after I took more."

"But you did anyway?"

"Got drunk and had to be brought home by my sister."

Magnus nearly snorts up his alcohol from that response, giving a short chortle. "Did you have to be tucked into bed, too?"

". . .  _Well_ . . . "

And that's it. Magnus belly-laughs.

Alec stares at him for a second before he breathily laughs himself. He feels embarrassed, but it oddly feels nice to have someone guffaw at his misfortune — as long as it's Magnus doing the laughing.

 

( & & & & & & )

 

The movie is over, and the T.V. is on low volume, playing something neither man paid attention to. Magnus is on his second glass of alcohol, Alec only taking one or two sips every thirty minutes. They're both silent now, spacing out in their own worlds.

"Hey, uh." Alec stops the stillness. "Why did you offer to do . . . _any_ of this? I never asked you to. And what you did those weeks ago don't matter. Again, it was better I had alone time." He glances to the older male.

"But you never said I couldn't," Magnus replies, swirling his drink in his hand. "I felt guilty for leaving you in the dirt like that. No matter if you needed some time alone or not."

"But why me?" Alec puts his cup down. "You could've been spending your time with Clary, Sierra, anyone ever in the world; you can make it up to anyone that you've hurt more, but you've chosen me over them. A practical _stranger_ to you."

"Look." The celebrity puts his glass down as well. "It's been— . . . It _feels_ like almost a full century since my last relationship. Since I've opened my heart up to anyone. No matter their beauty, no matter how compatible they were for me; I shut them out during the six whole years I've been single. I didn't want them to get attached me, and I didn't want to get attached to them. But then I met _you_." He locks his stare with Alec's.

"You've unlocked something in me."

 

( & & & & & & )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr : matt-daddrio

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: matt-daddrio


End file.
